Sweet Cinnamon and Honey
by Of Healing Love
Summary: (Altered Summary.) AU Darkfic! She didn't want him but he couldn't help but want her. Even if she hated him for it, even if he'd had a choice, he wouldn't let her go. When he finally claimed her, she would be his for all eternity...and eternity was a long time to hate someone. Eventually, she would come to love him - and if she didn't? He still wouldn't let her go. "You are mine."
1. Ichi

_Hey everyone!_**  
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_I've been watching Fairy Tail recently and OH MY GOD it is amazing. I think I may even like it more than Naruto, although Madara will always be my favorite. Anyways, this is a MidnightXLucy story - a oneshot with a cliff-hanger as of now, but if I get enough people liking it, I will gladly make it a chapter story. I have never written for Fairy Tail before and as such, am actually kind of nervous posting this. I think the grammar/spelling is as good as ever, but I'm really not sure if my characterizations are at all accurate._

_Anyways, please read and enjoy! This is M-rated, I suppose, but doesn't really earn that rating in this particular part. If I decide to keep it as a one-shot, it will go down to T, but if I continue the story, it WILL BE RATED M. Lemons will be found on my blog...although they'll probably be more non-con than anything._

_This can be considered a Darkfic, I think. So read on with caution!_

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He'd never liked the big cities after darkness had fallen, even though food made itself so easy to prey upon. Despite being a creature of the night and thusly named after the witching hour by his sire upon being turned, he much preferred the solitude and peacefulness of a quiet moonlit evening without the artificial lights and bustling men and women out to indulge in activities not meant for the daylight hours. Their debauchery disgusted him and like good little humans, they should be asleep in their homes, tucked away safely in their beds and out of danger from those like him. It wasn't borne of concern for their wellbeing, of course—he simply found no pleasure in their indulgent attitudes. At the same time, they made his survival _so _much easier.

They had no idea how truly dangerous the night hours were for them; then again, most of them remained unaware of the terror that those like him could bring upon the world. They were ignorant, although it was probably for the best, for if they knew what horrors could await them because of their actions they would surely make hunting a much more difficult endeavor.

It was a shame his sire had sent him to one such city; even if it was meant to be a vacation of sorts as a reward for his many recent successes, he would have preferred to be in the wilderness where the moon shone brightly and the animals who thrived in the forest would avoid him simply due to the fear his kind brought to all living things.

Then again, the city of Magnolia was ripe with the blood of nobles and the wealthy. While the homeless and the poor were easier prey, their blood was often weak and dirty—not anywhere near pleasing to his palate. It was for this reason he relished the more thrilling hunt of the privileged, those who had much to live for and were full of the desire to survive. Their fear made the result of his chase taste so much sweeter; his sire probably thought that sending him to such a place would be a treat, indeed.

And Midnight supposed it was, in that regard.

Unfortunately, however, he refused to dress and act as though he was of nobility in order to gain access to the throngs of the wealthy going out to their posh restaurants and VIP clubs reserved for the elite. Upon turning, his eyes and lips had darkened irreversibly, giving him the distinct appearance of a trashy goth who dressed in all black and chains. His hair had always been of two tones; black on top and white underneath, an appearance most of those who dyed their hair vibrant, unnatural colors for attention would have killed to have naturally. With his pierced ears and deathly pale skin, it was nigh impossible to pass as a noble. He wouldn't have wanted to look like one anyways, but it made a good dinner somewhat more difficult to come by. He often settled for vampire-wannabes who flocked to him like bees to honey when he went to the dark nightclubs in more obscure parts of the cities he visited.

Not the best when it came to blood quality, but sufficient when he wasn't up for a more intensive hunt.

It was at one of these places—a vampire-worshiping club called Elysium—that he had decided to find his prey for the night.

It hadn't been difficult to procure attire fitting for the occasion. With a sleeveless vest and form-fitting pants, all black leather, coupled with his usual black combat boots, Midnight found that getting into the club without an ID or cash had been simple. He was definitely old enough to be admitted—perhaps a few hundred years over the age minimum, although not looking a day older than twenty-three—and money had never been much of a concern to him when all he needed to go was cast a simple glamour upon the bouncer to make him think that he'd already been paid for.

Elysium was dimly lit, like most nightclubs, but he could see just fine with his vampiric gifts. Several centuries ago, the thick, tempting smell of blood from so many humans and the thrumming of loud music would have been overwhelming, but with time he had become accustomed to his heightened senses and now he could blend in seamlessly without succumbing to blood lust. The place was packed, even for a Saturday night, and the vampire decided that this would probably be the easiest hunting ground he would find in all of Magnolia.

The club had two bars on opposite sides of its space; one by the stage where an electronica band was setting up for their performance and another near the entrance to the patio where patrons could smoke and get away from the stagnant, humid air inside the bar. Strobe lights of all colors flashed throughout the building, but the main source of light was from the imitation of candles. The floors and walls alike were black, although there was blood red trim lining the ceilings.

He had taken a seat at the bar near the patio, simply observing the gaudily-dressed patrons with mild interest, when he smelled it.

He nearly tumbled off his stool.

Throughout the din of laughing, chattering, drinking, and _it_ called out to him. _It_ was the sweetest, most delectable-scented blood that he had ever had the joy of smelling. He had never felt blood call out to this like him before, not in all his three-hundred and forty-something years. It was an overwhelming temptation, one he had never felt before.

The bartender arrived with the Bloody Mary he had ordered, only to call out angrily when Midnight got off his stool and left without accepting the drink or paying.

He pushed through the crowd in a daze. More than once he vaguely registered someone grumbling about his rudeness or yelling at him to watch where he was going, but he ignored it in favor of finding the source of the scent.

A head of blonde hair appeared and it seemed the scent was coming from her. Red eyes widened and full of hunger, he was unable to tear his gaze from her.

Then she turned around, eyes meeting his momentarily through the crowd as she searched for someone, and he had to restrain himself from attacking her right then and there, regardless of the consequences. And then she was looking away, waving to someone behind him and the spell was broken—but he knew it then, a fact he believed with all his being.

He _would_ be the only one to taste her, ever.

"Natsu! Get over here!"

"Oi, oi, I'm coming," called the pink-haired young man, pushing past grumbling patrons to meet up with his friends, who stood on the covered patio in the back of the bar.

Lucy Heartfilia was _not_ a happy camper.

"Natsu!" she chided angrily when he finally reached her and their group. "How could you even _suggest_ we come to a place like this? This is full of…of…of _vampires!_"

"They're just in costume," replied her friend Gray, albeit grumpily. He was in agreement with his blonde friend; people like them had _no_ reason to come to a place like this.

"Why would anyone want to pretend to be a vampire?" Lucy demanded. "It doesn't make any sense—not at _all_!"

"I don't know either," Natsu said. "All I know is Cana said this place had the best prices on alcohol in Magnolia."

Lucy crossed her arms, unknowingly pressing her full breasts upwards teasingly. She was completely unaware of the lecherous stares this action brought. "And why are we taking _Cana's_ advice on where to drink? Ever since she started dating Laxus, she's been going to places like this and quite frankly, I think he's a bad influence."

"Says you," Natsu objected. "She's been happier. That's all we can ask for as friends, right?"

"I hate to say this, but Natsu's right." Lucy's jaw dropped comically. _Gray_ was agreeing with _Natsu, _his arch-rival_?_

"Where's Erza? She would understand what I'm talking about," Lucy retorted.

"Erza's not coming," Natsu said. "She said, and I quote, 'Drinking is unhealthy and a recipe for disaster. I won't partake in it.'"

"Great. Just great. I'm alone with _you two_?"

"Hey now," Gray snapped playfully, "I'm not that bad."

Lucy sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"Oi!"

Against her will, Lucy found herself laughing and patting Natsu lightly on the shoulder. "It's okay, Natsu. You're okay, too."

"Damn straight I am," he grumbled. "Well, since we're here, we might as well see about those prices, eh?"

Despite her better judgment, Lucy agreed and the trio made their way to the nearest bar. Elysium was jam-packed with people and thankfully, not all of them were dressed to look like vampires. At the same time, she found that some actually had fake fangs that were fitted to their mouths—or so she hoped, because they looked particularly realistic. Even if vampires were mythical creatures at best, she couldn't help but be frightened of them. After her mother's gruesome, bloody death, she found all thoughts of blood and by extension, blood-sucking vampires, scary and unwelcome thoughts in her mind. Even vampire bats scared the living daylights out of her.

Unlike her friends, who were roughly pushing past people without a care in the world, Lucy prided herself on the manners her upbringing had instilled in her. She took the role of apologizing to those that Natsu and Gray had offended, repeating apology after apology.

At some point during her attempts to placate her friends' rudeness, Lucy found that she had lost track of them in the throng of people.

"Oh, crap," she muttered upon realizing she had no idea where they were. She had made it to the bar, but they were nowhere in sight—of course, it was possible that they had simply been swept up in the crowd.

She was regretting come here more and more and was completely ready to go home.

It didn't help that she stuck out like a sore thumb in a room full of people dressed in all black—even those not dressed up as vampires still wore mostly dark colors. With her light green tank top, faded blue jeans, and red heels, she looked very much the part of someone who had wandered into the wrong place—and the odd looks she was getting from those she passed by only made it more obvious. She could only ignore the stares and search for a head of spikey pink hair—Gray's black hair just blended in with the rest.

Even so, there were a few false leads because it seemed that everyone here preferred a hair color that was not a natural color, with the exception of black. It was easy to come upon someone who had pink hair that was just a _shade_ different than Natsu's, although his was strangely, completely natural.

And then she ran headlong into someone who hadn't had the courtesy to step out of her way.

Whoever it was had a body like a rock because upon pulling away and mumbling out an apology, she had to rub her nose to soothe it.

"It's quite alright," came the smooth, baritone tenor from whoever she'd run into.

Lucy glanced up at the taller individual, who still hadn't moved out of her way, and immediately had her breath taken away.

It wasn't in a good way.

He was very tall, although some of that height could probably be attributed to the worn combat boots he was wearing. Dressed in all black—_and all leather—_he didn't stand out in the slightest from the rest of the people at Elysium, but something about him was different. It wasn't the pale skin, although his pallor was so white it was almost translucent, nor the makeup that _really_ made him fit in. Really though, black lipstick and eyeliner was overdoing it, wasn't it?

Then, making eye contact, she noticed he had crimson irises. It was clear, by now, that he was a die-hard goth. How many people actually invested in red-colored contacts?

Their eyes met and yet he still didn't move.

"Um…excuse me?" she said at last, slightly louder than usual to ensure he heard her. "I need to get by."

He was looking at her intently and didn't seem to hear what she'd said. The look in his eyes was a little creepy, she decided—it was like he was sizing her up, _inspecting_ her. Lucy decided she didn't like it, not one bit.

"_Excuse_ me," she repeated, a little more forcefully. With all the people around, it would be just as difficult to go around him as it would be to simply go through him.

He shook his head, as though suddenly alert again, and then smirked. She stiffened, seeing the fake fangs that so many people seemed to have here, but forced down the discomfort when he said, "Your friends are at the other bar." He pointed towards the bar across the room, skillfully evading jamming his finger into someone unsuspecting head—his height helped.

Lucy instinctively followed his finger and sure enough, she saw Natsu's familiar pink hair where the man had pointed.

She turned back to him, blinking. "How did you know-"

He was gone.

The blonde sighed. "_Creepy_," she muttered, but nonetheless made her way over to her friends. After much-less-politely shoving her way through the crowd, she finally met up with Natsu and Gray.

"Where were you? We lost you," Gray asked when she finally arrived.

"Yeah, I noticed," she replied sharply. She noticed the empty shot glass Natsu still held. "Are you guys going to be a while? Because I kind of feel like going home."

"Oh, come on, Luce. Just a little longer?"

Finding a surprisingly empty barstool, Lucy took a seat. "Fine. But you're _not_ getting so drunk you have to stay the night at my place, okay?"

"Of course not," they both replied in unison. Then, on cue, they glared at each other's audacity to say the same thing.

"Bet I can drink more than you!" Natsu suddenly challenged.

"In your dreams!"

Lucy sighed, cradling her head in her hands. It was going to be a long night.

Then, as Natsu and Gray continued to drink and drink for the sake of their contest, she felt it; eyes on her. It was a disconcerting feeling, knowing that she was being watched. She assumed it was just one of the lecherous men who seemed to frequent these types of places, but the feeling still sent shivers down her spine. It was when she was escorting her completely-plastered friends home that she actually became afraid.

The feeling was not going away. She was being followed and with her friends in their current state, they would be of no help—in fact, they would be a liability.

Regretting having ever come to Elysium in the first place, Lucy steeled herself and prepared to evade the worst.

The closer he was to her, the more his control over his bloodlust seemed to weaken.

Standing in her way on purpose so she would run into him had nearly made him lose control. He'd had to fight his urges viciously to stop from draining her right then and there. It would have certainly been an issue if that had happened; such large-scale damage control would have his sire punishing him for years, if not decades. His sire could be a very patient man and was merciless when it came to discipline.

While it had been satisfying enough just to be near her enough to indulge in her scent, he found himself craving her blood more and more as time went on. The moment she left Elysium hadn't been able to come soon enough.

It did, eventually—but she left with her friends. He had no issue eliminating the two intoxicated males, but it would be more difficult to get the chase he wanted from her if she was stricken and in shock because of their deaths. No, it would be easier if she was simply alone.

From the rooftops, he followed them, easily keeping up by vaulting from roof to roof. He didn't need to see them; he only had to follow the tempting scent of her blood.

One after the other she dropped them off at their respective apartments; the two boys apparently lived rather close to each other. First the pink-haired young man, then the black-haired one, right after the other. As soon as she had left the last apartment complex and was presumably on her way back to her own, he dropped from the roof and landed silently only yards behind her.

She stopped suddenly and he wondered if she had somehow heard him. It would make things simpler, not even having to introduce himself before she started running, but after the momentary pause she began to walk again. Her posture was wary, however, and he could smell the fear tainting her scent.

What a smart little human. She _knew_ he was there, hunting her; although perhaps she only thought she was being followed. She had no idea of the truth of her dire situation.

He followed her for a good while, keeping to the shadows and making his footsteps inaudible. It was clear she knew she was not alone on her walk home; she kept near the lights and away from dark alleyways. He applauded her conscientiousness, but it would not save her.

Then, under a lamplight, she stopped altogether. She took a deep breath, and then, "Stop following me or I'll call the cops. I know you're there."

He couldn't repress the chuckle that bubbled from his throat. _The cops_? What a joke.

Nonetheless, he stepped out from the shadows. "That's not very polite. I was simply enjoying the…view."

She whirled around, eyes wide. She obviously hadn't expected him to actually reveal himself.

"Y-you?" she stammered, and it came out as more of a question than an accusation. That in and of itself was rather amusing.

"Yes, me." He paused, allowing her to absorb her situation. He couldn't resist letting some fang show past his lips.

She backed away, not taking her eyes off him and staying close to the lamppost. "What do you want?" Her words were strong but her voice was weak.

Enjoying the situation far too much, he pretended to think about her question. "For you to start running, I suppose, would be preferable." He bared his fangs and relished the way her fear spiked.

He saw a trembling hand reaching for her purse, probably where her cell phone was.

"What, afraid of vampires?" he mocked.

"Vampires don't exist, you freak," she spat. "Leave me alone." Her hand had clasped over her cell phone. "I will _seriously_ call the cops. Go away."

How brave…and foolish.

In a flash, he utilized his speed to appear directly in front of her and grab the hand that held her phone. Clenching his cold hand over her, he crushed the phone as she held it.

In shock and pain, she screamed. Her hand had been cut because she had still been holding the phone as he mangled the technology. The fresh scent of her blood filled his senses and it was all he could do to command her, lest he end the chase before it began.

"_Run."_

Terrified, she complied, wrenching her hand from his grasp and taking off as quickly as she could in her heels.

He let her go, knowing that she would need a decent head start for the hunt to be any fun. He was willing to be more than patient; some of her blood had trickled onto her palm when she released the phone in order to run and he took great pleasure in licking it off his skin.

That was her scent, her taste; cinnamon and honey.

It was a shame such a delightful flavor would be gone after he caught her.

Then again, the thought of not being able to enjoy her blood after that night was something of a put-out, honestly.

Once her scent had faded sufficiently, he went after her. He took his time, leaping from roof to roof, but he noticed she was headed towards a more populated area of Magnolia; he wasn't sure if it was the direction of her home or not, but the more people around made it harder to fully enjoy the hunt—and he couldn't risk her somehow getting away entirely.

He sped ahead of her and then, just as she was turning a corner, landed in front of her.

"Wrong way, my sweet," he purred. She shrieked and turned around to go the other direction, but the scent of the blood flowing from her hand was too much. Instead of taking the rooftops again, he began to herd her towards an alleyway that was dark enough be sufficient for his purposes.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed, and he could smell her tears.

Midnight shivered with anticipation.

And then it was time. The chase had been satisfying, but it was time to reap his reward. Appearing beside her, just as she screamed he shoved her backwards into the alley. She stumbled and fell, but was immediately trying to get back on her feet. At this point she was breathing so hard that it made it impossible to catch her breath and scream, so the only sound in the alleyway was her sobbing and panting.

"Leave…me…alone!" she begged as he stalked towards her. Her breasts heaved in the most attractive of ways as she scrambled away from him and it was strange, but he found himself actually…_desiring_ the young woman. It wasn't foreign to him but he rarely participated in the pleasures of the flesh; there were so many more satisfying things to do as a vampire.

This acknowledged, it was truly a shame she had to die.

"Get up," he commanded, eyes narrowing. She glowered at him obstinately but staggered to her feet anyways, obviously seeing that being upright gave her a better chance of escaping.

It would be true if she had any chance of getting away at all.

He stalked towards her and her teary eyes were flitting everywhere, trying to keep an eye on him while looking for a chance to escape all the while. It was a futile endeavor, but he allowed it—the longer it took him to reach her, the more her delectable fear spiked and flooded his senses. A low, hungry growl came from his throat.

"I-I don't have any money," she stammered, backing away shakily. She was clutching her purse to her chest, blood trickling from her injured hand. His eyes honed in on the drops of red slowly spilling to the ground and found himself annoyed that perfectly good blood was being wasted.

He began to advance more quickly.

"Seriously! What do you want?" she screamed. He was suddenly upon her and she cried out, turning to run, but he caught her bloody hand, stopping her.

Midnight held the hand to his face for inspection. It was sweaty from her run and the blood had slowly started to coagulate, but the scent was still as intoxicating as ever. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell that was quickly becoming a drug to him.

Her brown eyes were widened in horror and she was unable to scream, even when he brought her hand to his mouth and licked it lengthwise.

She was breathing heavily and disbelief was evident in her eyes as he began to suck on the wound, drawing more blood to the surface. His eyes, glazed over with bloodlust, met hers and maintained eye contact as he continued to assault her hand.

"Sick freak," she whispered with surprising anger and conviction—clearly her self-preservation had disappeared with the extent of her terror.

He finished with her hand, giving it a final lick. "Perhaps," he agreed blithely. The comment riled her and she yanked at her hand, fear forgotten.

"Let me go, you vampire-wannabe! Go be disgusting somewhere else!" she shouted.

He wasn't often annoyed by words like that, but for some reason her saying them irritated him beyond belief. Midnight gripped her hand tightly and then, using it as an anchor, slammed her into the nearest wall. She cried out, her head snapping back against the brick, but didn't stop her from pulling at her hand; he simply used her struggles to advance upon her.

"I suppose I would wish I was a fake, if I were in your situation," he mused aloud. She glared at him and then, in a moment of clear desperation, kicked out at him with her sharp heel.

He knocked her leg to the side carelessly with his knee and she stumbled, unable to hold all her weight with one weak leg. As she fought for balance, she spat, "Vampires aren't real. Get over yourself!"

It was refreshing that she had a fighting spirit, he supposed. Most women—or anyone, really—would be in shambles, screaming and begging for their lives, but she wasn't. She was frightened, yes, but she also was valiantly trying to hide it. It was pointless because he could smell it in her blood, but the sentiment was appreciated.

He towered over her and leaned in. She was small compared to him, but not overly short. Her petite form, with the exception of her breasts, made her seem smaller than she was.

"I think you're about to find out that you're wrong," he murmured. His sire often told him that it was a waste of time and energy to play with one's food, but Midnight had never quite been able to agree with that. Perhaps he was considered particularly sadistic for a vampire, but the smell, the _taste_ of fear was of a pleasure equivalent to that of an orgasm.

It had never affected him negatively in the past, so he saw no reason to forgo his favorite part of the hunt.

"Back off," she replied tremulously. Her momentary anger had completely dissipated in her fear and her harsh words belied her actual feelings.

He could _taste_ them.

Their noses were practically touching and she trembled with terror, but she never broke eye contact. In her own fearful way, she was daring him to try anything; it was a challenge.

Midnight never backed down from a challenge.

However, as much as he wanted to draw out the last part of his meal, being so close to her and hearing her blood thrumming through her veins, practically tasting her warm essence on his tongue, he found he could hold out no longer. The bloodlust overwhelmed him and with the deftness and speed of a viper, he latched onto her neck and pierced the skin with his fangs. All she could manage was a choked, surprised yelp before he viciously pulled her blood from her jugular.

The taste was unlike any he'd ever had; it was so sweet and rich that it made him dizzy. Before he knew it she had gone limp and her pulse was weak. There was little left in her and she would die soon if he kept going.

He was perfectly fine if a human died, especially if one was his meal because it was typically unavoidable, but at the sudden, simple thought that he would never taste her blood again, Midnight was brought to pause.

If he hadn't found blood like hers in nearly 350 years, what were the chances he would find it again?

Making his decision abruptly, he pulled away from her neck and lapped at the bite mark, savoring the last traces he would taste that night and letting his saliva help the wound scab over. It would leave a nasty bruise, as usual, except that it would be on a living person instead of a dead one—but despite its inherent ability to give away his kind's existence, it also served a purpose. It was very important, actually; she couldn't be permitted to forget about him. He would be back—_many times_ before he was told to return home by his sire—and to have to reintroduce himself all over again would be irritating.

It was then that he realized he didn't know her name. Annoying, but easily fixed.

Letting her unconscious form drop to the ground carelessly, he retrieved the purse she'd abandoned nearby. Upon finding her ID—handy little things, they were—he was able to ascertain her name, age, address—everything he would need for the future months he had of vacation.

Name: Lucy Heartfilia. Age: 21. Address: 2027 Celestial Grove, Ste. 304.

There was more information, but most of it was easily discerned from simply meeting her, such as hair color, eye color, height, and so on. He noticed how her blood type was AB. How coincidental and yet unsurprising; he'd always been partial to AB.

Tucking the ID back into her wallet and the wallet back into her purse, he observed the unconscious young woman in front of him. Looking at her more closely, he reasoned it was only natural that he desired her for more than just her blood. She was curvaceous nearly to a fault, with a slim waist but wide hips and a generous bosom. Her face simply accentuated her already-pleasing body with full lips, a cute, feminine nose, and high cheekbones. She dressed strangely conservatively for her body—certainly she knew that if she took advantage of her looks, she could woo any man she wanted into submission?

Then again, it was perhaps for the best that she dressed as she did; he felt oddly possessive of her, disliking the thought of any other seeing what she had to offer. He decided that _he_ would know everything there was to about her body and it was distasteful to think of any other male knowing her that way.

His thoughts trailed back to the two young men. For their sakes, he hoped that neither was romantically attached to her, because the last thing was going to do was _share_.

Midnight hoisted the unconscious girl up and took to the rooftops again, trying to call up on what little he knew of Magnolia so far to get an idea of where she lived. It would not do to have someone seeing him carrying a limp body, especially given how battered she looked. In all honesty, he hadn't hurt her much, but the blood from her hand had caked and dried and her clothes were dirty from her fall; she was a bit of a mess. Then, of course, was the mark on her neck. To those who did not believe in vampires, the bruise would be mistaken for assault and strangulation.

Remembering her zip code from the ID card, he found that with a little wandering he found the direction that led to her apartment. He smirked when he realized that she had been purposely leading him away from her home. It was an easy matter of getting there, climbing easily over the gates that guarded the community—he found they were townhomes, which was very also very convenient, just like many things in the situation. Less contact with neighbors meant less chance of being caught or discovered. This was all turning out to be rather ideal and it all brought forth the thought of _fate_.

Pleased, he found her home with little issue and, withdrawing her keys from her purse, entered the abode.

It was a small but pleasant place to live. A single bed in a single room on the second story and the lack of any other strong scents signified that she lived alone, which made things, yet again, so much simpler. Upon entering her room, he laid her on her bed. Leaving her there, he checked the refrigerator and found that while she did not have orange juice—something ideal for someone who'd just had the majority of their blood drained—she had a few other helpful drinks and foods that would aid with her quick recovery. Still, she would need to purchase certain foods to help spur on blood reproduction.

Deciding that his job—making sure she healed quickly and was full of blood to spare for a later date—was sufficiently completed, Midnight went on to a slightly more pressing matter.

He'd never left a victim alive before, but he knew logically that someone who survived an attack would want to tell someone—anyone—about what had happened for fear of it happening again.

This Lucy Heartfilia could not be allowed such liberties.

In the end, it was a simple matter of threatening her friend's lives. Since she'd brought them home first, he had a good idea of where they lived and it would be easy to eliminate them. A quick, scrawled note outlining the threat that would result in her silence concerning her attack, as well as not-so-suggested suggestions about what to eat for a speedy recovery, was posted to the refrigerator. For her friend's sakes, he hoped she found the note before she said anything because he really had no qualms about killing one of them as an example to make sure she understood the severity of her situation. How delightful that there were _two_ of them.

Maintenance of his game completed, Midnight locked her door from the interior and then left through the window; he it left open, so she knew that the attack, the threat, and his ongoing presence in her life was not a figment of her imagination.

Thoroughly satisfied with this new turn of events, Midnight was not averse to taking a leisurely stroll back to his hotel room on the opposite side of town.

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_So if you like it and want more, follow/favorite/review to let me know you want more! The sooner you all let me know what you want, the sooner I can have an update ready! Of course, if nobody likes it...well, that's just life, eh? I just need to know if this is a fruitless endeavor._

_Review!_

_Cheers!_

_Of Healing Love_


	2. Ni

_Hey everyone!_

_First of all, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed. It meant so much to me! Reviews make my day and motivate me to keep writing. :)_

_Initially, I wasn't going to post another chapter due to the rather underwhelming response (again, thank you so much to those who did!) but for shits and giggles I'm posting another chapter. I'm hoping this one will get a better response over all._

_Now, I'm not one of those bastards who demands a certain amount of reviews in order to update; I just want to know if this story is appreciated and whether or not it's worth continuing. Please, if you're interested, let me know. _

_Onto Chapter Two! Enjoy!_

* * *

A light breeze and warm sunlight woke Lucy Heartfilia from her slumber, and the first thing she knew upon awakening was _pain_.

It was all over her body; she felt weak and achy everywhere. Her right hand pulsed from what she assumed was an angry wound and her neck throbbed—she could hardly move her head without reverberating, punishing agony for her efforts.

What had _happened_ last night?

Natsu had insisted they go out drinking and Cana had apparently suggested a place that had the lowest prices on alcohol in Magnolia—a bar named Elysium. So she, Gray, and Natsu had all shown up. She remembered walking them home after they'd gotten shitfaced-drunk, but why…?

Red eyes flashed in her memory and Lucy let out a startled yelp that made her cringe from the sudden movement of her neck.

The…the vampire-wannabe…

Lifting a hand to her neck, she gingerly touched the part that hurt the worst. Two small scabs, evenly placed apart, were at the center of her pain.

Her eyes widened in fear.

The _not-so-wannabe vampire_, it seemed.

Trying to move as little as possible because moving was painful, she lifted her other hand—the hand that had been holding her cell phone is it had been crushed. She winced at the jagged gash that had resulted from the destruction of her phone. She remembered it had been bleeding…but the man—no, _vampire _—had licked it clean before he had bitten her…

Oh god.

Lucy leaned over the side of the bed, awkwardly rolling off, before staggering to her bathroom despite the prompt wave of dizziness and barely made it in time to vomit into the toilet. Even as her body screamed at her for the sudden, unwanted movements, she couldn't help but empty her stomach heedlessly.

Was this what they called shock after a traumatizing event? She didn't know because she'd never had something so horrifying happen to her before—there had been finding her mother's body, but that did not compare to this in any way.

Forcing herself up from the toilet seat and flushing last night's dinner down the drain, she stood shakily and inspected herself in the mirror—but only after leaning on her sink to wait out the dizziness that had overcome her upon standing so abruptly.

She was, putting it lightly, a mess.

Her light blonde hair was mussed and bedraggled and there were purplish bags under her eyes. It seemed like half her neck was a mottled purple-blue, the bruise darkening until it met with two small scabs. Her clothes were rumpled and dirty and her feet ached from running in her heels—which she noted she still wore. But the worst part of everything was the overwhelming weakness she felt in her body; just trying to walk back into her bedroom made her feel lightheaded.

She collapsed on her bed, trying to ignore the terrible pain that her neck emanated with every inhalation of air. It was then, when a gust of warm air came through her window that two things that she had not noticed clicked into place.

Firstly, the last thing she knew was the strange man—no, vampire—biting her. She assumed she'd fainted at some point, which meant there was no way she had made it home herself. She had no recollection of anything from the point when she'd passed out until she'd awoken just a little while ago.

Secondly, and probably more importantly, the window was open—an easy escape for a vampire or anyone who could jump down to the second story and come out uninjured.

Clearly, the vampire had brought her home…

Her eyes widened in abject terror.

That meant he knew where she lived.

Lucy's stomach churned, horrified to come to such a realization. Did all vampires take their victims home after…doing _that_?

She hoped so, because the mere thought that whoever he was had gone to extra lengths to do take her home, incidentally finding out where she lived…well, it didn't seem like such a good thing.

Lucy decided that she was lucky to be alive.

After the shock of realizing what had happened started to wear off, she found that she was incredibly hungry. Slowly making her way from her bedroom, down the stairs, and to the kitchen proved quite difficult, given that her head started spinning if she moved too quickly or her knees threatened to give out if she didn't lean heavily on the banister. However, soon enough she made it to the kitchen and her first goal was to get a nice, cold glass of water.

The cool liquid was refreshing and wonderful and Lucy didn't think she'd ever had a glass of water that had tasted so good in her life. Next up was a bowl of cereal—she was too weak to make anything fancy and she simply needed to make something assuage her empty stomach until she could think more clearly.

Then, of course, she'd contact the police. Or Natsu. Or Gray. Or Erza…_somebody_ who could help her. She wasn't sure if they'd believe the vampire part of her story, but she assumed the giant bruise and two little bite marks on her neck would be telling enough.

She'd pulled out the cereal, a bowl, and a spoon before going to the refrigerator for milk. Upon seeing a piece of paper taped to the door, however, she froze. That hadn't been there before and that jagged but somehow neat handwriting wasn't familiar to her.

With trembling hands, she pulled the note off the refrigerator and uneasily began to read.

_Lucy—_

_I've gone to the trouble of keeping you alive, fortunately for you. You have had most of your blood drained. I expect you to go to everything length to replenish it as quickly as possible and I've listed foods that will speed up the process. If you want to stay useful to me and thereby alive, I suggest you follow my instructions._

_By keeping you alive, you are also consequently a liability. I have no time to deal with liabilities, so when it comes to anything regarding our meetings, __**you will**__**not say a word to anyone**_**.**_ Should this become an issue, I will kill anyone you have told indiscriminately—and your friends will suffer, as well. One had pink hair, I recall. He will die first should you tell anyone, as well as whoever you have told. I assume that you value their lives, so I trust there will not be a problem?_

_I will see you at 9pm at your home Tuesday. I expect you to be there, __**alone**__. Should you bring anyone uninvited, I will kill them._

—_Midnight_

She dropped the note in horror at the same time as it felt as though the floor was dropping out from beneath _her_. Lucy stood there, frozen, suddenly hoping with all her might that this was just a horrible dream, that she would wake up _right now_ and her neck wouldn't hurt, her body wouldn't ache, her hand wouldn't throb, and that there would _not_ be a note threatening her friend's lives and holding the promise of seeing her attacker again slowly drifting to the ground.

She was suddenly leaning heavily against the refrigerator and tears were pouring from her eyes. She sobbed helplessly, completely at a loss as to how she was going to handle this sudden upheaval of her life.

Contacting the police...contacting her friends…contacting _anyone_ was completely out of the question now. Even if she did have her phone—she'd need to get that replaced, so it seemed there would be a trip to the electronics store in her near future—there was nothing she could do with the information she'd suddenly had dumped on her.

The thought was still having difficulty settling in her mind. _Vampires existed?_

No, no. It was impossible.

And yet…the pain in her neck didn't lie. The weakness of her body didn't lie. The note on the refrigerator, now settled on the floor by her feet, _didn't lie_.

Even if there was a way to justify everything else about the situation, she couldn't forget his strangely enhanced speed, his otherworldly strength. With just the flick of his wrist he'd slammed her into a wall—lifting her hand, she noted that yes, there was a small bump on the back of her head from where she'd collided with the bricks. It didn't hurt unless she touched it, however, and given all the pain she was in otherwise she found she wasn't particularly interested in provoking the little wound. Dropping her hand, Lucy tried to figure out her next move.

Slowly, she picked up the note again, forcing herself to reread it and analyze every detail. On the back of the note she found the list of foods he'd instructed her to eat and found that leafy green vegetables such as spinach and kale underlined several times—of course, because they were a very good source of natural iron, which was clearly important for blood and its production. Meat was also on the list, as well as other foods that would help her regain strength.

She didn't have a lot of what was mentioned available to her in her home, so it was decided that after she ate her bowl of cereal, she would go grocery shopping and also replace her phone. If she remembered correctly, she had a warranty on it, so it shouldn't be too difficult to get a new one. She'd lost a lot of numbers though and they would be a little more difficult to get back. As far as she knew, her phone was a mangled piece of metal and wire that was useless to just about anybody, so if it had been found it had probably been thrown in the garbage.

It was a good thing she had made it a point of memorizing Natsu, Gray, and Erza's phone numbers.

Then, after all the menial things were done, she wound figure out a way to deal with the vampire who insisted on seeing her again—_Midnight_. She wasn't ready to consider her options just yet as she had to take care of the basics first. But she _would_ find a way to deal with him. There wasn't any other option because she couldn't allow her friends' lives to stay in danger and…she really didn't think she could handle seeing him again. He'd decided to keep her alive so far, but what if that changed? What if he decided she wasn't worth the trouble? More than ever, her run-in with him the night before had proved to her one thing.

She wasn't ready to die just yet.

* * *

In the end, Sunday passed in a blur. After picking up her groceries and getting her new phone—the warranty was thankfully still active, so she only had to pay a little money to obtain a new one—she headed home.

The first thing she did was make herself a salad and cook some of the sirloin steak she had bought from the store. She hated to follow any of the instructions Midnight had given her, but she figured that a vampire would know best what would help with blood loss and she would need all her strength to deal with the wreck that was now her life.

It turned out that he had not lied; after eating the meal rich with protein, iron, and other essential vitamins, she was feeling a lot better.

Then, of course, the texts came in like an avalanche.

As she responded to Natsu's incessant texts—most of an unimportant, menial nature—Lucy almost felt as though her life had returned to normal. Then, her eyes would stray to the note that she'd left on her dining room table and she would be reminded that she was not out of the woods yet. Things would _not_ go back to normal unless she found a way to deal with this newest threat.

But what could she really do?

It occurred to her somewhere along the line that if vampires existed, surely _someone_ who was not a vampire knew of them? There had to be some kind of human retaliation—vampire hunters or something? She refused to believe that humans were entirely without defense of their kind.

The more difficult matter was finding out how to find and contact such people. Even with her laptop, she was almost positive that a search engine would be unable to give her any real results to her problem. Most would likely be a fake or a scam because really, who _actually_ believed in vampires?

No, right now she was all alone.

After putting her dishes in the dishwasher and feeling almost normal at last—most of the pain was gone except what came from her actual wounds, specifically the bite on her neck—Lucy decided a shower was in order. While normally caring about what society thought of her appearance, other than changing pants and donning a scarf despite the warm weather, Lucy had headed out from her house as-is. However, now that everything felt a little more normal, it was important she become presentable.

A hot shower was just what the doctor ordered, it seemed. The warm water soothed her injuries and refreshed her tired body, so of course she took a very long time in the bathroom. She gauged that she'd been in the stall about an hour—her skin was wrinkled like prunes when she was finally done. Putting on a purple V-neck t-shirt and some white jeans was normal, but wrapping her yellow scarf around her neck and securing it firmly to stay in place was _not_. She bandaged her wounded hand awkwardly, given that it usually took two hands to do it, but after all was said and done she felt much better about everything.

And yet the note, still on her dining room table, stayed like an obnoxious intruder niggling in the back of her mind, reminding her that _nothing_ was normal and that she needed to figure out what she was going to do about the vampire named Midnight.

It didn't seem like there was much she could do, but Lucy was a Heartfilia even if she had run away and Heartfilias did _not_ give up.

That didn't make the situation feel any more manageable though.

In the end, she fell asleep around 6pm and didn't wake up until just before her shift started the next day.

* * *

8-Island was a café not too far from where she lived that served delicious, fantastic food that brought people from all over Magnolia flocking. It was a very well-to-do establishment and Lucy felt lucky that she worked in such an environment even though she really should have been at school at her age. School was a little too expensive at the moment though, so she was saving up with the help of her often-generous tips. Her boss, Yajima, was a kind, elderly old man who had once been an important public figure in the government before an enormous scandal had had most of the politicians present for it retiring.

Despite the guilt he felt over his part in the scandal, Lucy thought he was a wonderful person and really looked up to him. She did her best to work hard and give one-hundred-percent every shift and it was well-rewarded because Yajima truly seemed to like her.

It seemed work was just what she needed to take her mind off things and that idea was solidified in the form of one of her best female friends, Levy McGarden. The blue-haired girl was a fellow waitress but also a very good friend of hers and if there was anyone Lucy felt she could tell her secret and have it be safe, it was Levy. Given that Levy was an incredible bookworm, Lucy had no doubt that she could help her find out more about her predicament as well as probably locate someone who could help her.

Still, she couldn't risk her friend's life. She had no idea how Midnight would know if she had told someone about him, but she couldn't take the chance of him finding out. After all she'd been through, she didn't doubt that he would make good on his threats to kill her friends. It wasn't a risk she was willing to take.

It didn't stop her from trying to enjoy her shift as much as possible. She'd gotten a few odd looks aimed in the direction of her scarf, but all she could do was shrug it off and make sure the fabric stayed in place tightly. Luckily the yellow didn't clash too terribly with her blue waitress uniform or else she wasn't sure what she would have done. The bandage on her hand was easily attributed to dropping a glass and accidentally cutting herself, so at least that was one less thing she had to worry about.

The lunch rush was over and during the afternoon lull, Lucy and Levy sat in the break room eating some of the food that had gotten sent back when not done quite to order—it was one of the perks of working at 8-Island. Yajima hated food going to waste so if there was an untouched order, he would give it to his employees for free.

Lucy had claimed the dish with beef stroganoff because it turned out that meat really did make her feel better. She was still a little weak but all in all, keeping to the diet Midnight had given her was truly speeding up her recovery—even though she was loathe to willingly listen to any of his commands.

The pair sat at a small table in the break room. Levy had ordered some strawberry shortcake after finishing the soup that the customer had decided they didn't want and Lucy was almost halfway done with her stroganoff.

"So," Lucy said after swallowing a large bite, "How's the soap opera with Gajeel?"

Levy snorted and rolled her eyes. "For once, I'm not going to correct you. It really is a soap opera. For someone who claims not to care about what other people think, he's having a really hard time explaining to his friends why he's dating a 'goody-two-shoes' like me. It's beyond ridiculous and I'm starting to rethink the whole thing." Despite her cynical words, Levy sounded decidedly half-hearted about the thought of terminating the relationship.

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "You're going to break up with him?" Levy and Gajeel had been attached at the hip for six months so far, and even though she had complained in the past, she had never brought up actually doing anything about the situation.

The blue-haired girl sighed. "We're not technically boyfriend and girlfriend right now I would say, so I'd more call it 'stop dating him.' It's just…things are complicated and I'm not sure about _really_ ending it, but it's hard when he claims to really care about me and then won't even touch me when we're around his friends."

"That _ass_," Lucy agreed.

"I don't really blame him," Levy replied solemnly. "I mean, his friends are something of an…interesting bunch. I don't really fit in with them and it must be awkward for him to have someone like me around. I don't spit or smoke or drink or do any of the things…_they_ do. I'm literally the odd one out."

"It's his loss," the blonde argued. "You're the best thing a guy like him is going to get. If he can't handle it, then he doesn't deserve you. And don't you dare ever change because of a guy, Levy McGarden, or I swear, I'll beat him up."

There was a long pause as the girls regarded each other and then the two burst out laughing. The thought of slim, petite Lucy taking on a big, burly biker with piercings and wild hair like Gajeel was simply a joke, but nonetheless the visual was pleasing.

"You could suffocate him with your breasts," Levy joked, trying not to choke on the portion of shortcake she still had in her mouth.

"Shut up," Lucy cajoled, waving her uninjured fist in her friend's face. "I could totally beat the crap out of him!" Even as she said this, she was fighting back giggles.

It felt so nice to be playing around with her friend and acting as though nothing was wrong. This was a conversation similar to the ones she and Levy would have before the entire disaster concerning a certain vampire had happened. Unfortunately, just remembering her predicament made Lucy sober almost instantly and anxiety began to gnaw at her stomach. The food on her plate suddenly seemed a lot less appetizing.

Levy noticed the sudden mood swing instantly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lucy sighed. "I guess I just feel kind of…lost."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever feel like you just don't know what's going to happen next? Like, there's something that you don't want to happen but unless you beat impossible odds it's going to happen anyways?"

Levy's brow furrowed as she contemplated the question. "I'm not really sure. I guess with Gajeel I'm not sure how things are going to turn out, and even though I want to be with him it seems unlikely that he's going to do anything to change the situation. Something like that?"

Lucy fought back a sigh of defeat. Of course there was no way Levy would understand. _No one_ would understand. "Yeah, I guess something like that," she lied.

The blue-haired girl frowned with concern. "What's going on, Lu?"

"Nothing, it's alright. I don't really want to talk about it," Lucy said, lying yet again. It was distressing to have to deceive her friends because she was always usually so honest, but this was not a burden she could share without endangering their lives.

The rest of the meal went on in silence, but Lucy was unable to eat any more. Anything she put in her mouth tasted like ash.

When Yajima called out to them that lunch break was over, both girls stood, straightened out their uniforms, and got ready to start working again. Lucy did so without much fervor, no longer feeling lighthearted or merry. The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Luckily, her tips didn't suffer terribly from her lackluster attitude.

When her shift ended at six and Lucy walked out of the restaurant, she _felt _it. Her back stiffened and she froze immediately, eyes darting about to find the source of her fear.

Nothing—or rather, nobody—was there, but she knew that her eyes were lying to her. _Someone_ was there, watching her. As she walked home, the feeling persisted and she knew that yet again, she was being followed. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sensation because she _knew_ who it was.

Midnight was watching her, stalking her like he had the night before. A discomfited shiver ran down her spine and she pretended not to notice anything, even though her body was trembling with fear.

As soon as she entered her home and the door was shut, the feeling was thankfully gone. Sighing, Lucy leaned against her closed door and took a deep breath. At least, for now, she was alone.

A glance at her phone told her that it was almost seven—her walk home had taken much longer than usual, probably because she'd been walking so stiffly and warily. It didn't matter; at least she didn't feel those eyes on her anymore.

Once her nerves had finally uncoiled, Lucy went about making dinner—salad with some chopped chicken and her favorite dressing. She ate slowly and haltingly, not feeling hungry but knowing that she needed to keep up her strength.

By the time she went to bed, exhausted, at 9:30 that night, Lucy was all too aware of the fact that she had less than twenty-four hours before she would have to see _him_ again—and she still hadn't come up with a solution.

She was hard pressed to get any rest at all that night.

* * *

_Please review!_


	3. San

_Okay, first of all, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all who reviewed. You all literally made me so happy._

_This chapter is shorter than the other two but hopefully still satisfying._

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAIN EXPLICIT NON-CONSENSUAL SITUATIONS!**

**If you don't want to read it, I have marked when it begins and where it ends.**

_Thanks!_

He had come early that night, his anticipation running too high to wait until exactly nine o'clock. He'd snacked on a particularly tasty young woman Monday morning around 3am just to tide his hunger, but nothing compared to his Lucy's blood. Her taste was irresistible and he craved it with every bone in his body. His fangs ached at the mere thought of her and his claws threatened to lengthen with the thrill of the hunt; he had been unable to stay away from her Monday evening, even if he didn't actually interact with her.

Midnight smirked at the memory. He'd smelled her fear; she'd known almost immediately that he was there, watching her. Their Tuesday night rendezvous couldn't come soon enough in his opinion and therefore, he was outside her window at eight, watching her silently from an inconspicuous perch on the tree outside her house.

For once, she didn't notice that he was there and it was fascinating to watch her act normally.

Well, perhaps not normally. She was fretting, pacing back and forth in her room and gnawing on her plump bottom lip as she obviously tried to think of a way to evade him. Her blood was calling to him, tempting him with every passing moment, and it grew harder and harder to resist showing up early.

Then, fifteen minutes before he was to reveal himself, she suddenly stopped pacing and her face lit up as though struck with an ingenious idea. He raised an eyebrow curiously, wondering what exactly she had come up with that made her think she could possibly escape him.

It became clear when she gathered her phone, wallet, and purse, tightened the scarf she'd intelligently wrapped around her neck, slipped on her shoes and left the house, locking it soundly behind her.

She thought that by not being present when he told her to be there would get save her, hm? That was foolish and so very, very naïve. She was _his_ now; he'd decided to keep her alive, something that he'd never done before. Did she really think that such a simple tactic would change his mind?

He almost laughed aloud at how ridiculous the notion was as he leapt down from his perch on the tree. She was interesting, he had to admit, despite her foolishness.

She was walking quickly, too preoccupied with getting away to notice him heading her way. Once she had gotten off the street and was passing the gate, he sped up and stopped directly in front of her, unable to stop his smirk when she shrieked in fear at his sudden appearance.

"Going somewhere?" he asked smugly. Her breath caught in her throat and she simply stared at him in pure, unadulterated horror.

When she said nothing, he took a step forward, to which she quickly took several steps backwards. Then, "I'll scream," she whispered. "They'll see you and they'll lock you up. Leave me alone." Her voice was pleading, even though she probably didn't mean for it to be.

"Good luck with that," he replied nonchalantly. "Even if they could catch me, it's your friend's funeral, not mine."

She paled visibly, all the blood draining from her face. Without thinking, she took another step backwards.

Satisfied, he walked past her in the direction of her townhome, deftly grabbing her wrist as he passed her with the intent of dragging her back. Lucy let out a muffled whimper but made no more efforts to scream, although he had to yank her along at times when she tried to slow the pace.

"Please," she said softly, "Please leave me alone." Her voice was so quiet that if it hadn't been for his sharp hearing, he wouldn't have heard her.

"I've gone to too much trouble for you," he replied, and it was the only answer he was going to give. She whimpered at the response and he could smell the salt of her tears marring the sweet scent of her blood. He almost wanted to tell her to stop crying, but he knew that it was a futile command.

They reached her home quickly enough and he released her, motioning to the door and implying for her to unlock it. With trembling hands she did so and he could tell that she was tempted to slam it in his face before he entered. He corrected this unwise attempt by slamming his palm against the wooden panel as it swiftly began to close and shooting her a threatening glare, at which she blanched and hastily hurried all the way inside. He followed her, making sure to lock the door behind him. If she tried something so daring as to run, locking the door would only serve to be one more thing to slow her down. From her wary glance at the door when the lock clicked into place, he knew she understood the reasoning behind his actions.

She didn't have the chance to outrun him anyways, but part of the hunt was the mind games and they were his favorite.

"Did you really think that running would serve any purpose?" he asked with mild interest as he made his way into her living room and took a seat on her navy blue couch, easily making himself at home. She stood stiffly by the kitchen a good few yards away from him, watching him with guarded, fearful eyes.

"I had to try," she responded at length and her words held a good deal of conviction. He raised his eyebrows and smirked scathingly.

"I suppose you did, didn't you?" he replied in a tone that required no response. She said nothing for a long time, but when she spoke, her next words genuinely surprised him.

"If you're really a vampire," she started uncertainly, "then all I can think of is that you're here for my blood." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing with more strength in her tone, "So why don't you get it over with?"

He was shocked into laughter, the audacity and gall of her attitude pleasing him immensely. She looked disconcerted at his response, which slowly bled into fear when his laughter died down and his eyes narrowed contemplatively.

"Unfortunately for you, we vampires can have interests other than food," he replied, smiling coldly as he observed her body. She wasn't wearing her blue waitress uniform, having changed into a conservative red top and form-fitting gray sweatpants.

She jerked backwards at his implication. "No," she spat angrily. "No! I won't be some-some toy for you!"

He smirked viciously. "At what point did I give you the idea that you had a choice? If I so chose it, you have none."

Lucy took a large step away from him when he stood. "No! I refuse! Get out of my house!"

His smirk widened as he took notice of her heaving chest, but he said nothing in response. He began to advance on her and immediately, she was dashing for the door.

It only took a mere second before he was pressing her up against the wall, her back to his chest. She screamed but he quickly wrapped a clawed hand around her mouth, muffling her desperate cries.

She fit so _perfectly_ against him, her rear pressing teasingly into his groin and her generous breasts forcing her back to arch against his chest. Midnight couldn't resist burying his nose into her hair, inhaling her delicious, intoxicating scent. She hadn't stopped screaming and her thrashing was incessant, but he ignored those factors in favor of gently grasping her throat, stroking the soft skin with his claws.

She stilled at the touch, the soft puffs of air from her nose tickling his hand even as it seemed she was holding her breath.

"Delicious," he murmured into her ear, nipping the lobe with a single fang and drawing the slightest amount of blood. Lapping up the little droplet, he felt a sudden surge of bloodlust—it proved harder to contain that he would have liked, but in the end he was able to force it down in favor of relishing the moment.

He yanked her away from the wall and she immediately started thrashing again, kicking and screaming and pulling at his hand to stop it from muffling her screams as he dragged her further into the house.

Despite all this, he was easily able to maneuver her in such a way that she was led to the couch, however unwillingly.

With deft precision he dropped her, following quickly to force her to stay prone on the blue furniture.

"Get off me!" she hissed, shoving at his chest, but there were tears in her eyes even as she tried to push him off her. "_Get off me!_"

Ignoring her commands, he covered her mouth again and used his body weight and muscle to force her to stay still, pinning her wrists together with his other hand and pulling them above her head. While she was not particularly weak for a female human, her struggles were futile against his superior strength.

"This doesn't have to be difficult," her murmured once she had finally been strong-armed into submission. "It could actually turn out to be…quite enjoyable for the both of us." His eyes glinted hungrily.

Lucy only glared at him, making a futile effort to knee him in the groin. Effortlessly he spread her thighs at their junction with his knees, entirely disarming her, and ground his hips against hers; at the display of his arousal, all at once the façade of anger turned into true fear and tears were spilling from her eyes. Suddenly fascinated by the wet trails streaming down her cheeks, he leaned down and licked the length of one of the tracks of her tears, finding the salty taste not totally appealing but not particularly unfavorable, either.

He found he wanted to touch her, explore her body with more fervor than he had anticipated, but with both hands occupied it seemed it would be a difficult endeavor. Midnight was aware that should she scream loud enough and for a long enough period of time, she might actually be able to attract unwanted attention and so allowing her to make that noise wasn't ideal.

The solution to his problem came easily enough. Glad that for once he had worn a belt, he momentarily uncovered her mouth and removed the leather garment. She screamed loudly, her panic giving her new, almost unbearable volume, and he quickly the cinched the belt tight around her wrists, forcing her arms behind her head in such an angle that it would be difficult to use them.

"Get off me! Get off me! Let me go, you perverted freak!" she yelled angrily, desperately. He ignored her, gladly covering her mouth once again and quickly moving on to more important activities.

Savoring the moment, he fondled her large breasts through the thin fabric of her shirt. They were full but perky and he found that he rather liked the feel of them. Wanting to see more, he shredded through her top easily until the front was ripped thoroughly and her breasts, barely contained by the skimpy lace bra she wore, bounced free on display.

* * *

**-begin explicit content-**

His groin tightened uncomfortably at the sight of her heaving chest combined with the intoxicating scent of her fear filling the air. Pulling the bra aside, he ignored the way her breath hitched in terror and latched onto a pert bud, laving his tongue over the peak until her nipple stiffened. There was an interesting flavor to her skin; it was much like the taste of her blood, but somewhat more floral. Interest growing, he nipped at her bared flesh with a fang, drawing blood. She let out a muffled cry of pain as he pulled the droplets of crimson liquid from the small puncture wound, but his bloodlust was quickly growing and it was becoming more difficult to hold back.

At length he pulled away from her, making quick work of the bra by snapping it down the middle. He was fully ready to taste her blood again and forget all about his sexual urges—its taste had removed all thoughts of physical lust from his mind—when a memory, unbidden, came to his mind.

'_Nothing tastes better than blood after an orgasm,' _his comrade, a vampire named Cobra, had once told him. Midnight had never considered going to such effort to for the sake of food, but with this half-naked young woman he'd claimed as his own lying beneath him, he wondered if it wouldn't be such a bad idea to find out.

Mind made up, he grasped the waistband of her sweatpants quickly and shoved them down to her knees. Her screams somehow became louder despite his hand and she renewed her efforts to fight back. It was growing tiresome, this struggling, and he finally had had enough.

"Keep fighting and I'll happily mangle that pretty friend of yours," he hissed, irritated by her fighting. When Lucy refused to listen and continued screaming, he elaborated. "She had such nice blue hair…is it natural? Because it would be a shame if she didn't have a head anymore. Such beautiful hair, going to waste on a _dead person_."

At the final, very emphasized words, Lucy's eyes widened almost comically at the threat. When her struggles ceased and helpless tears flowed as a sign of her surrender, Midnight ripped through her panties, baring nearly her entire body for his perusal.

"I trust you'll have the intelligence to stay quiet," he said, the threat barely hidden. She only closed her eyes, but when he removed his hand her lips stayed pursed together tightly even though she couldn't stop the low whines coming from the back of her throat.

He decided that was as good as it was going to get.

Midnight spread her lower lips and rubbed her hot core slowly, gently. She stiffened beneath him, her body trembling from the weight of her fear and disgust. He could smell it on her; she was repulsed by his actions. It didn't matter though; he knew from past experience with these situations that the body could betray the mind very easily.

At random intervals, he used his claw the tickle her sensitive nub. The first time, she couldn't help but jerk at the touch, but soon after she found the willpower to control her reactions. She was breathing more heavily, although she was still not aroused by his actions.

It didn't matter. He had all the time in the world. Barely an hour had passed since their return to her home; he had plenty of time to get all the reactions he wanted out of her.

Then, suddenly, her hips jerked in response to his hand. He couldn't help the wide smirk on his face; he smelled it at last. It was faint, but the result was clear; she was becoming aroused and the sweet scent had his groin tightening uncomfortably.

He sped up the motions, paying special attention to her clit. The scent strengthened and he relished it in; her arousal was almost as sweet and tempting as her blood. He could feel slickness growing from her core and once he deemed her wet enough, he slipped a single clawed finger inside of her.

She whimpered and he knew it was one of pain. She was _tight_, so _tight_—but she was also slick and pliant, her heat warming his cool fingers almost unbearably. Within a few quick movements he'd found the bundle of nerves that would be her undoing and soon she was panting despite herself.

Watching her breathe haltingly and feeling her small, involuntary jerks against his hand, Midnight couldn't help but feel that he'd made a very good choice by choosing Lucy as his.

_This wasn't supposed to be happening_.

He was touching her where she'd never been touched before, where she _shouldn't_ be touched by him. Her breasts still prickled in revulsion from where he'd run his hands over them, even though her nipples were stiff from his ministrations.

And oh, god, he was _inside_ her.

But despite her disgust towards him, despite that he was sick, blood-drinking freak of nature, she was aroused. Pleasure sparkled through her abdomen as he tapped her bundle of nerves with his finger and rubbed her clit roughly with his thumb, his black claw occasionally sending an unwelcome jolt when it touched her just right. She made sure to keep her eyes closed, unwilling to be a witness to any of this even though she was an—_unwilling_—participant.

The pleasure was building, heading quickly towards a crescendo that she couldn't stop, and it infuriated her. How _dare_ he violate her like this? And yet for all her disgust for him and her situation, the unwanted arousal kept rising and rising and soon she knew that at any moment, she was going to burst.

Instead, she couldn't stop herself from screaming when he forced a second finger inside her.

His claw had cut her and it _hurt_ but then he resumed his pace. She tried to ignore his light panting above her just as she tried to ignore the sensations building within her. It was proving impossible to fight, however, because even though she was being stretched uncomfortably and even though he had nicked her with his claw, she felt the pressure building, and then-

Lucy couldn't stop the strangled moan that passed through her lips just as much as she couldn't stop her hips from bucking as she came, _hard_, onto his fingers. The resulting chuckle was pleased and smug and she couldn't stop the angry tears that leaked from her eyes even as she rode out wave after wave of intense pleasure, sucking in labored breaths as she orgasmed.

He removed his fingers from her dripping core and there was a pause. Morbidly curious, she peeked at him through shuttered eyelashes, but upon seeing Midnight licking his fingers clean with a contemplative look on his face, she clenched her eyes shut once more.

**-end explicit content-**

* * *

And then came exactly what she'd known was coming the whole time; he leaned down, turned her neck to the side, and bit harshly into her jugular.

The pain was just as bad as the first time, but since she wasn't entirely shocked by the turn of events, she was able to let out a shriek at the sudden pain. He'd reopened the two bite marks where he'd first drank from her and Lucy couldn't help but feel that maybe this time was _more_ painful because of that.

Midnight drank more slowly this time, seeming to savor her blood rather than just greedily pull mouthful after mouthful. In fact, he wasn't really sucking at all—he just let her traitorous heart pump the blood into his mouth.

It didn't take long to become lightheaded and soon she was dizzy. However, before she went unconscious, he pulled away, lapping at the two bite marks. She felt him brush the hair away from her face but kept her eyes closed, not sure that she could face him after the shameful, unwanted pleasure he'd forced from her body.

"He was right," she heard him murmur thoughtfully, but since she had no idea what he was talking about, she ignored it in favor of pretending to be unconscious.

After a while he got off her and unbound his belt from around her wrists. The angle they had been in would undoubtedly make her shoulders sore later, but she didn't dare move until he was gone. If she was still conscious, there was always the chance that he would want…_more_.

She heard footsteps going away from the couch and in the direction of her front door. Then, his next words came and she knew that he hadn't bought her act of being unconscious.

"Thursday, same time. Be here…and don't try anything stupid. I won't be so merciful if you do something foolish again."

And then the door opened and shut…and he was gone.

Still, Lucy didn't move for quite a while. She had to be absolutely certain he was gone before she did anything else.

At long last, assured that Midnight wouldn't be returning, Lucy opened her eyes. Upon seeing her naked form and ripped clothing, she let out a horrified sob and began to cry wretchedly.

He had…he had violated her! He wasn't just after her blood—he was going to make her a sex slave! Disgusted and repulsed at him, the situation, and most of all herself for her body's reaction, Lucy was immediately on her feet, intending to make it to the shower and wash _every last trace_ of him off her.

Unfortunately, he had drained a good deal of blood, although perhaps not as much as last time, so she was forced to wait and steady herself on the back of the couch before proceeding upstairs.

Once safely under the hot water, it was all she could do to not scrub her skin until it bled. By the time she was done it was still raw and bright red, almost painful to the touch, but at least she felt remotely clean.

And yet she still felt as though a coat of grime was on her body.

Her phone was ringing, she noticed vaguely, still in something of a daze after the most humiliating episode in her life. Picking it up, she saw that it was Levy calling. Lucy had no idea what her friend wanted, but she did know that she had nothing to give at the moment. Setting her phone down after rejecting the call and putting it on silent, she stumbled into a pair of pajamas and collapsed onto her bed.

She knew, on some level, that she needed to eat to start replenishing her blood. Glancing at the clock and noticing the late hour, Lucy felt that Thursday wasn't really all that far away. Of course, knowing that she would see Midnight again wasn't helping matters at all—in fact, it only made the span of time seem so much shorter.

Lucy closed her eyes. She decided that she wouldn't think about what had happened that night; it was all a dream as far as she was concerned. If she let this haunt her, bring her down, she would surely go insane.

Somehow convincing herself, however weakly, that the past three hours had been nothing but her imagination, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Please review if you enjoyed this chapter even in the slightest! 3_


	4. Yon

_Hey everyone!_

_New chapter on a Tuesday, even though I know the update it supposed to be Thursdays. The next chapter (5) will be out Saturday. I'm ahead on chapters, so I thought I'd treat you all!_

_A big thank-you to Hana-Taisho, DarqueDeth4444, hahalolsmileyface, Kesuna, and all the guests who reviewed. I really wish there were more people to thank, but that's how it goes, I guess. I really wish Midnight had a bigger role in Fairy Tail...I love his Japanese voice actor. The English one wasn't nearly as creepy, but oh well..._

_Anyways, no warnings this time. Definitely not filler - in fact this part is crucial to the plot - but nothing remotely sexual._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Unfortunately, when Lucy awoke the next morning, the first thing that assaulted her was the soreness of her shoulders and with that came the recollection of what had happened the night previous.

It seemed the incident with Midnight wouldn't allow itself to be brushed off as a dream or a figment of her imagination.

She staggered out of bed and knew that the weakness of her body—something that she was swiftly beginning to associate with having her blood fed on—would be problematic, given that she had work in barely thirty minutes. Yes, she'd overslept, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

After something so horrible happening to her, Lucy felt she deserved to be cut a little slack.

Despite the achiness of her body and its calling for her to eat something, Lucy could not summon an actual appetite. Even less so could she summon the will to eat the foods Midnight had instructed her to; it was only serving his purposes all the more. She knew that it was unwise to go against him in such a way and that it would truly be better to keep up her strength, yet it was impossible to look at food and still actually come to terms with eating it. In a combination of angst, obstinacy, and despair, Lucy decided against eating and simply headed off to work after showering yet again and changing into her uniform.

She noted with some detached form of interest that the bruise had not returned to a bright purple-and-blue like it had been the first time she had been bitten. Eventually logic led her to the realization that because he had not actively pulled the blood from her body, there hadn't been consequent bruising and so the current mark was still healing unhindered. However, with the fading of the vibrant discoloration came the problem of the actual bite marks becoming more prominent—an issue that was even worse than the bruise should its true cause come to light. Of course, two little punctures were easier to miss, but at the same time they were infinitely more difficult to explain. A bruise could be from a fall, an accident, anything—there were many more believable ways to make up a story for that. Hell, she could even add some truth to her lies and say that she'd been mugged and nearly strangled, which would easily provide a cover story for her new phone. The bite marks, which despite their size told a completely different and more complicated story, would take much a more creative and implausible explanation.

Bruise or no, it seemed she would be wearing a scarf indefinitely until she found a way to get rid of her vampiric stalker. And yet with how tired and weary she felt after the past few tumultuous days, Lucy found that she had no energy to pursue a solution to her situation currently. It would present itself soon enough, she told herself; this couldn't go on forever.

She refused to even _think_ about the future—no good thoughts could come from it and she had no energy to spare worrying.

To all who passed her on her way to work, she was sure she looked like she was going for 'Best Zombie Imitation of the Year.' Her face was slack and expressionless and from the worried look Levy shot her when she clocked in for her shift, Lucy knew an interrogation would be coming at their lunch break. Pushing the distressing thought away, she went about her doing job to the best of her ability.

The regulars of 8-Island who knew her and were familiar with her usual cheerful, vibrant personality expressed concern over her appearance, but Lucy waved them away with a weak smile and a lame excuse. Surprisingly, they tipped even _more_ generously, clearly out of pity for whatever situation was getting her down. Conversely, newer customers tipped less because of her seemingly bad attitude, and she found that by lunch break she'd made no more than she would have on any other day.

In her books, that was a good thing. She wouldn't have been surprised if her pay suffered because of her poor appearance and unenthusiastic interactions.

As she predicted, Levy assaulted her immediately behind closed doors.

"Lu, what's wrong?" she demanded, her brown eyes shining with worry, and it was all Lucy could do to not start spilling her outrageous secret and cry her heart out onto her best friend's comforting shoulder.

Even if Levy would believe her—and with the evidence of the bite marks and the fact that Lucy was not one to make up such a ridiculous story it might be possible—she would gain nothing from it other than temporary comfort, which would of course be marred by the fact that her friend's life was then in danger. There was nothing to be done.

Lucy forced a smile onto her face. "Nothing, really."

The expression on her friend's face told her she didn't believe that for a second. "Bullshit. Tell me what's wrong."

It was something of a shock and perhaps a true sign of how terrible she looked that her bookish, gentle, usually _demure_ friend had sworn so vehemently. All Lucy could do was chuckle half-heartedly and try to evade her orders.

"Wow, you've been hanging out with Gajeel too much, Lev. I've never heard you cuss before."

"Cut it out," Levy hissed, anger fueled by concern. At Lucy's unyielding expression, her eyes softened and she tried a different approach. "I'm worried about you. You were acting so…off yesterday afternoon and now this…you look like you've been through a disaster."

Lucy wanted to reply, _'I have,'_ but smartly bit her tongue and just shook her head, making her way to the table and taking a seat. Levy promptly followed and sat down next to her, unwilling to let the subject drop.

They were silent for a while as Levy tried to find a way to broach the topic that would get her friend to talk about what was bothering her.

Finally, Levy said, "Do you want me to get you something to eat? It's on me."

The blonde shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

There was a long pause. "Lu, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. Please, trust me. You can tell me anything."

At last, Lucy relented as much as she could while keeping Levy safe. "I know, but it's not about trusting you. If there was anyone who I could tell my situation to, it would be you. But I literally can't…it'll put you in danger."

Levy's chocolate eyes were wide as she processed her best friend's words. "Danger…?" she said, almost sounding shocked.

"That's all I can say. I'm trying to figure out how to fix everything, but I really, truly, have to do it on my own."

"Lucy…" Levy's eyes wandered to the scarf, pieces of information clicking together in her mind almost audibly as the wheels turned. "Is somebody hurting you?" Her words were dangerously soft, showing the pure outrage that would come if Lucy confirmed her suspicion.

"Levy, I can't-"

With a speed that seemed to rival Midnight's, Levy yanked the scarf away from Lucy's neck. It had loosened over the course of the morning and with the surprising amount of strength used, it came off easily.

Levy stared at the mottled bruise with abject horror, her jaw dropping as she inhaled sharply through her nose.

"Who did this to you." Levy's voice was flat and terrifyingly emotionless—the words didn't even sound like a question.

Lucy was in shock. Terror flooded her system and she made a grab for the scarf, but Levy's quick hands pulled the fabric out of her reach.

"Lucy," Levy said, tone threatening.

Tears, borne of desperation and fear, filled Lucy's eyes. "I can't tell you!" she said, begging her friend to understand. She stood, leaning over the shorter, seated blue-haired woman in a futile attempt to regain her scarf. "He'll kill you!"

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself from saying them. She froze as she realized how much she'd given away and Levy was equally shocked by the fervor and desperation in her friend's voice; the room fell into a decidedly tense silence.

"Ladies!" called an elderly male voice and suddenly, Yajima had pushed open the door and was strolling inside. Taking advantage of the interruption, Lucy grabbed her scarf from Levy's suddenly loose fingers and quickly returned it to her neck, cinching it snugly.

Noticing the coil of tension in the room, Yajima frowned as he hobbled over.

"Everything alright here?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes!" both girls replied at the same time, their voices too high-pitched to make the lie believable.

"Well, I thought I heard some raised voices, so I just wanted to make sure things were okay," the older man said uncertainly. However, despite everyone in the room knowing that nothing was remotely alright, he went on wisely, "But it seems everything's fine. Callie's working the front and Margaret picked up an extra shift, so your break can be a little longer if you want."

"Thank you," Lucy said, while Levy only nodded mutely. Thankfully, Yajima had lived his fair share of years and knew when to stay uninvolved; Lucy could only thank the heavens that she wouldn't have to lie to yet another person.

Because clearly she was going to have to do some fast thinking with Levy.

The door closed and Lucy took a seat resignedly. Levy wasted no time.

"Tell me everything," Levy said sternly once they were assuredly alone. Lucy opened her mouth, feeling that she'd come up with a decent lie, when her friend continued, "And _don't_ lie. Lucy Heartfilia, you are a terrible liar and I'll know if you're making something up." Then, placing her hands on Lucy's shoulders and looking her directly in the eyes, she said softly but with great conviction, "I don't care if my life is in danger. It scares me, but clearly _your_ life is in danger, too. I said I wanted to help and I mean it; you can't go through something like this alone. _Trust me_."

Lucy felt the last of her walls breaking down at her friend's firm assurance. Everything Levy had said was true—she really _was_ a horrible liar, and she _couldn't_ go through this alone even if she wanted to—and at this point, there wasn't really the option of backtracking. Trembling with fear and disgust at her weakness, Lucy began to tell her story—omitting the part where he'd sexually assaulted her. She didn't think she'd ever be able to admit it aloud.

"…so I don't know his reasons or understand why he's doing any of these things," she said finally. "Everything's like a fog. He's pulling the strings and I'm the puppet, and he's threatened to kill Natsu and Gray if I tell anyone—_and_ he'll kill anyone I tell. That means that he might go after you…and I can't lose you, Lev. I didn't want to tell you and I wish I could erase all of this from your mind. If anything happens to you…I'll never forgive myself!"

Levy sat silently for a long time and Lucy wondered if her friend thought she'd gone off her rocker. At length, the blue-haired young woman pointed at her scarf. "Can I look at it more closely?"

Lucy acquiesced, thinking that Levy needed more concrete proof to back up the outrageous story. After she'd pulled away the scarf, her friend leaned in and inspected the bruise and bite marks more carefully. With a sigh, she pulled away, and then said something that Lucy would never have predicted might come out of her friend's mouth.

"I thought Gajeel might be able to do something, but they're too big. This vampire's way older than him; he'd be killed instantly."

Lucy gaped. "Wait…you _know?_ And what do you mean, too big?"

Levy sighed, looking at Lucy almost bashfully. "Gajeel told me once things started…looking serious. It's the main reason I don't fit in with his friends, actually, and one of the reasons I'm hesitant to stop seeing him; I don't want him to think that I'm going to say anything and get the wrong idea. Vampires are dangerous when threatened…or any other time, really." She paused for a moment, then continued. "The size of a vampire's fangs can sometimes give you an idea of how old they are, and by extension how powerful they are. Typically, the older the vampire, the stronger they are. There are some cases where that rule is broken and a vampire becomes more powerful than their age would normally allow, but apparently it's pretty rare. Gajeel isn't even one hundred yet and judging by the size of his marks, I'd say Midnight is at least over three hundred."

Lucy's heart stopped in her chest. _Over three hundred years old_…how powerful would that make him? A shiver of fear shot down her spine.

"However," Levy continued, noticing her friend's terrified face, "I can ask Gajeel, but he's never said anything about telepathic powers. Some can do a little mind control through glamours—a spell of sorts—yes, but nothing about direct mind-reading. So unless I do something to warrant his attention, there's no real way that I know of that he could find out that I know anything."

Too afraid to hope, Lucy stammered out, "B-but couldn't he use one of these…glamours to make you tell him if you know, if he suspected something maybe?"

Levy smirked knowingly and Lucy's heart leaped hopefully. Unbuttoning the top of her uniform, she motioned to a thin necklace that had a small, diamond-shaped jade pendant. "It's a charm that wards off that kind of control," she explained. Seeing the doubt in Lucy's eyes, she went on. "It's made of sterling silver, which burns vampires if they touch it, so it's very difficult for them to take it off—and, conveniently, it warms up when a glamour is being used, so I can just fake my way through whatever they try to use one." She looked at it fondly. "Gajeel got it for me as a birthday present. Most vampires like to think no one else knows about them, so they usually don't suspect things like this."

"I need one," Lucy said breathlessly.

"Not yet," Levy said, shaking her head slowly. "If you suddenly start wearing one, he'll _know_ you told someone. You can't find information like this on the internet." Smirking wryly, she added, "I've already tried. Trust me, I found Gajeel's story very hard to believe."

Overloaded with the information and sudden turn of events, Lucy exhaled loudly and slumped in her seat. "What else can you tell me that I should know?"

Levy had a thoughtful look on her face for a long moment before speaking again. "Well, I'm not sure, but I think this…thing with Midnight is temporary." When Lucy's features lit up, Levy smiled sadly. "I can't say for sure, but I know from experience that vampires usually don't spend time with us humans other than for the purpose of feeding. The fact that Gajeel doesn't want me solely as a walking, talking blood bag is one of the reason we have so many problems. That kind of interracial love is highly disapproved of by many, especially older, more conservative vampires. Given how old Midnight is, I doubt he's very progressive in that line of thinking. If a vampire wants to be with a human, usually they'll just turn them. Immortality and all."

Lucy nodded. It wasn't a surefire hope, but it was something to latch onto—until an even more terrifying thought came to mind. "Then…when he's done, he'll kill me, right?"

"No!" Levy said, fervently and loudly. At Lucy's wince, she said more quietly although with no less conviction, "I'm _not_ going to let him kill you. We'll find a way out of this. Together."

Smiling genuinely at her best friend, Lucy clasped her hands over Levy's. "Thank you," she said softly. "Oh my god, _thank you!"_

And then she was sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Levy was holding her and rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"It's okay, it's okay," Levy cooed. Even if it felt like _nothing_ was okay, Lucy found it within herself to believe her words just a little bit.

But that little bit was enough to give her hope for the future.

Lucy had started to calm down when Levy glanced at the clock. "Hey," she said gently, "Do you want me to ask Yajima to send you home early?"

"No," Lucy replied after a slight hesitation. "No, just in case he's watching, I can't give off any signs that something might have changed. He seems to…watch me a lot." She hadn't forgotten the creepy feeling of his eyes following her Monday evening.

Levy nodded seriously. "Alright. Well, then we'd better get back out there. Callie's going to come in and start biting our heads off if we leave her out there alone with Margaret any longer."

Lucy couldn't help but laugh weakly. Callie Corradier was a beautiful older woman but someone who had a very strict and severe attitude; it was a generally bad idea to piss her off. Conversely, Margaret was a ditzy, somewhat air-headed individual with more bosom than brain and tended to annoy Callie when they worked simultaneously.

Levy headed out to clock back in while Lucy took a moment to dry her eyes and clean up a little. It was no wonder Levy had been so concerned; she looked terrible. The bags under her eyes were decidedly pronounced and she looked pale—probably because of the less-than-usual amount of blood in her system. Vaguely, she knew that she should eat, but even after all the relief of knowing she wasn't alone she still couldn't rummage up an appetite.

However, she was much cheerier for the rest of the afternoon and that resulted in better tips and a better day altogether. With a slight spring in her step, Lucy went to clock out. Passing Levy on her way to the cash register, her friend quietly told her to meet her in the break room before leaving. It sounded urgent and now worried, Lucy quickly wrote in the current time and then headed to the back to wait.

Five minutes later, Levy came through the door. Walking over to her friend, she leaned in and began to speak softly, clearly conscientious of the possibility of being overheard. Lucy was willing to bet that more and more of their conversations were going to be carried on in hushed whispered from that day forward.

"I was thinking about everything and in order to move forward in getting him out of your life, you're going to have to go out of your comfort zone," Levy said, her words weighted with apprehension. Lucy nodded, nervously gesturing for her friend to continue. "You need to get to know him."

As much as it made sense, the mere thought of _getting to know her attacker_ was horrific.

Levy saw her petrified look and shook her head, as though disagreeing with Lucy's fear. "I know it's going to be hard, but we need more information to work with. It'll be slow going because if you look too interested too fast he'll know something is going on. Try…getting him to open up. It'll be hard and scary, but we need to know what we're dealing with."

Swallowing with some difficulty, Lucy said, "Go on. What do I need to ask him?"

"His exact age would be helpful, and any clues you can get to find out just how powerful he is without directly asking. You have to be careful, _really_ careful, because if he catches on that you're up to something I have no doubt that he'll…do something drastic." What she really meant was that he'd kill her. "Find out why he chose you and if he does things like this often. That will give us a better of understanding of what he's using you for and how important you are in the grand scheme of things. As much as it kills me to put it this way, we need to find out valuable you are to him. It's a double-edged sword; the less valuable, then your life is in much more danger. The more valuable…the likelier that he'll need to be eliminated completely."

"I don't mind getting rid of him no matter how valuable I am to him," Lucy couldn't help but interject vehemently. The thought of killing someone frightened her and the thought of going head-to-head with Midnight seemed like more or less suicide, and yet…she didn't find herself objecting to the idea of killing him even then.

"I know," Levy replied understandingly. "Just…find out how old he is, what he wants from you, _why_ he wants you, and more than anything, listen closely to everything he says. Something that might seem completely useless could turn out to be crucial information."

"He…doesn't talk much anyway…" Lucy felt chills run down her spine at the thought of his smooth, baritone voice—when he did choose to speak, it usually made her shiver in fear.

"You need to change that."

Lucy glanced at her friend, about to object, when Levy cut her off.

"You _have_ to. The more he talks, the more information you'll get. You have to be completely inconspicuous about it and _don't_ give him the impression that you're really listening or that you care, but he could slip something really important that would make it easier to get rid of him."

The way Levy looked at her made Lucy realize just how important this was to her survival, no matter how much she didn't want to do it. The saying '_know thy enemy'_ held a meaning now for her that she'd never fully grasped before and with a resolute nod, she agreed to do as Levy told her.

"Good," Levy said, much louder and brightly. It was a clear attempt to cover for their long, hushed discussion. "Well, you'd better go home, and Callie's going to shit kittens if I'm in here any longer."

Lucy burst out in surprised laughter at Levy's crude words and then gave her friend a long, heartfelt hug before leaving the break room and then pushing out the front doors of 8-Island.

She wasn't pleased when she felt eyes on her yet again, following her as she walked home, but she also felt that maybe she shouldn't be too surprised. Taking a deep, steeling breath, Lucy made her way home, trying to look a little less like a frightened mouse and more like a warrior…who was marching to their doom.

Not much of an improvement, really, but she couldn't give off the impression that anything had drastically changed.

Despite her change of tune outwardly, she still wilted in relief after closing her front door and the feeling of being watched disappeared.

* * *

_Sorry, no Midnight/Lucy interactions this time. In fact, no Midnight at all. :( But he makes an appearance next chapter, so no worries._

_Again, thank you to all who reviewed._

_Poll Question (the start of a string of polls that may lead to a new fic): What is your favorite Fairy Tail pairing? I personally like Midnight with Lucy, but that's just because I adore him in general. My others are Jellal/Erza and Zeref/Lucy, but I can't find any decent fics of the latter. Maybe I write one someday...So! What is your favorite pairing?_


	5. Go

**FOR ONCE, AN IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

_Hey everyone!_

_For once, I updated when I said I would! Yay! Anyways, this author's note is actually kind of important, so please read it, if you will._

**_This story is going to be a very slow, eventual_ Midnight/Lucy.** _I know I've already started on the sexuality part of it, but the feelings and romance are going to be very slow. I won't post spoilers -absolutely not!- but I do want you all to know that **the romance is definitely going to take awhile. **When (if) it comes, I promise it will be worth it (although trust me, this isn't going to be one of those fics where Lucy falls head over heels for him after all the abuse she's gone through - I haven't entirely decided how the story will end, but if Lucy DOES somehow, **somehow fall in love with him, it's definitely going to be taken with a grain of salt.** I think that stories where rape is involved should not have romance quickly follow, if at all. That's just not how it works. Rape is a horrible, horrible thing._

_That said:_

**I DO NOT CONDONE RAPE IN ANY WAY. I MAY WRITE ABOUT IT, BUT I DON'T GLORIFY IT AND RAPE IS ALWAYS, ALWAYS WRONG. PLEASE DO NOT INTERPRET THIS STORY IN SUCH A WAY THAT IT MAKES RAPE SEEM OKAY - IT IS NOT!**

_Okay, now that that is settled...there will be rape in this story. Yes, it will be explicit. If that bothers you, either don't read the story or skip the parts (they will be marked) that will bother you. Please don't flame because it's not going to change anything and you WILL be blocked. If Guest reviews become an issue, I will turn them off._

_Now...on to the story!_

* * *

Midnight showed up exactly seven minutes early Thursday night. She couldn't deny that she'd been watching the clock nervously ever since returning home from her shift. Although really, it could have been earlier than seven minutes; she hadn't exactly let him into her house. He was just suddenly…there.

She shrieked when he appeared behind her in her bathroom, only knowing he was there because of the mirror—otherwise, he could stood there behind her for a good long while and she wouldn't have noticed.

The bastard chuckled in amusement at her fear, showing a good deal of sharp fang.

It had taken what ended up being nearly an hour of pep talking from Levy to prepare her for what she was going to attempt to do that night, should the opportunity come. Even though it was only their third meeting, Lucy couldn't help but feel—from what Levy had told her—that she was already on borrowed time. At any given moment he could decide he had no use for her and kill her—there wouldn't be anything she could do about it, not at this point.

And still, despite all the pep talking and encouraging words, she could only stand there, frozen, as he pulled her hair away from her still-bruised neck, his eyes meeting hers via the mirror.

Her heartbeat sped up as his amused look faded into a cold, menacing scowl as he looked at her through the mirror. Lucy decided that, having never seen him look so particularly…_irritated_ before, this was her least favorite expression from what she'd seen of him so far.

When he spoke, his words were frighteningly toneless. "You've been neglecting yourself."

There was a clear note of disapproval in his words and Lucy suddenly found herself more terrified of him than usual. Did this mean she'd lost her usefulness to him? Her heart rate spiked. She hadn't been eating or sleeping well, but could she really be blamed for that?

"N-no, I haven't," she argued fearfully.

One clawed hand lifted around her head to drag its tip underneath her eyelid across the darkened skin tone of the bags beneath her eyes.

"You haven't been sleeping…"

His voice was terrifyingly neutral as he outlined the evidence of her recent inability to rest.

The claw then trailed down to her cheek, pressing deeply into her skin as it continued its path downwards. It was painful, but she was more frightened by how his eyes narrowed at the stark contrast between his black nail and her pale, gaunt cheeks.

"…and you haven't been eating." Maintaining eye contact through the mirror, he leaned in, almost resting his chin on her shoulder as he murmured into her ear, "Now I don't think there will be enough of your delicious blood to satisfy me, hm? And that's a _problem_."

The way he spoke had her trembling. "I-I'm sorry," she whispered. Part of her hated how weak she was in front of him, but a lot of the bravado and anger she had felt at him before had withered and died under the harsh realization that she probably wasn't all that special and how _easy_ it would be for him to kill her if she lost her usefulness.

Lucy realized suddenly that, if she survived this meeting, she would have to make certain to take care of herself better. If this was him even _slightly_ disapproving of her actions, she never wanted whatever this emotion was directed at her again.

Suddenly, the tense atmosphere in the room seemed to fizzle away and a familiar, smug smirk was on his face again. "Luckily for you, I've fed today. However…you need to stay nourished. Come."

He was suddenly walking out of her bathroom. Following slowly because her knees were weak and wobbly from the rush of adrenaline and subsequent relief that he wasn't going to kill her just yet, Lucy went back into her bedroom, where Midnight had taken the liberty of opening the door to her walk-in closet and was apparently perusing her clothing.

She could only stand there, dumbfounded, as he leafed through several dresses, one after the other. "Too many colors," he commented casually as he inspected dress after dress fleetingly. "You'll need a new wardrobe."

She felt a combination of both fear and relief from his words; if he wanted her to buy a new wardrobe, it could mean that he wasn't going to kill her anytime soon, but if that was true it also meant that he wanted her _alive_ and _in his grasp_ for that period of time. It truly was a double-edged sword, as Levy had put it.

Soon, he came across a short, lacy black dress that could barely be counted as an article of clothing. Lucy remembered with vague horror where she had gotten that—at a lingerie store when Cana had insisted she buy something. It had been on a fluke shopping trip for the brunette's second date with Laxus, and the dress—boasting a black corset as the top and only about a foot of lacy black material for the bottom that really seemed like more of an unsatisfied designer's afterthought than anything—had been the most conservative thing she could find in the store.

Fingering the silky material for a moment, he pulled it out by the hanger and tossed it on her bed.

"Wear that."

And then he turned around, facing her fully and watching her closely, and waited.

Lucy glanced at the dress that she had never worn in her life and had never intended to, always wanting to throw it out before remembering the price tag and becoming unwilling to get rid of such an expensive purchase, and tried to process that he was actually going to make her wear it.

"Why?" she choked out.

He eyed her clothing skeptically—tight jeans, this time, to dissuade him from taking them off and a loose, baggy shirt—and said, "Where we're going, you'll be underdressed."

She swallowed with great difficulty, realizing that he meant to make her wear _that dress _in _public_. She couldn't help herself—her anger overcame her fear, perhaps quite unwisely. "And where would we be going that would require me to look like a _slut?_"

Lucy blanched in shock at her unintended words, but he only laughed. Good, her anger only seemed to amuse him. Still, it would probably be best to try to get a better grip on her emotions—especially if she was going to be covertly grilling him for information that would at a later date be used against him.

"You'll see," he replied, and he smirked playfully. However, the narrowing of his eyes didn't speak of true lenience. "Put it on, or I'll take you there naked."

Head whirling and heart beating quickly at the implied threat, Lucy took a shaky step towards the dress, then another. Gripping it tightly, she clutched it to her chest, giving him a clear signal for him to turn around.

He didn't seem to catch on. It was a preferable belief to the other option—which was that he wanted her to undress in front of him.

"I'm waiting."

Not knowing if she was signing her death warrant but unwilling to budge on the matter, she said politely but pointedly, "Please turn around then."

He ignored her. "You have thirty seconds before I strip you and you accompany me without clothing."

All color drained from her face. He would make good on his threat; she could see it in his eyes. Swallowing down her pride was difficult, but she turned around so that her back faced him and quickly took off her shirt, wanting to keep the time period where she was bare to a minimum.

"It's nothing I won't see eventually," he said blithely as a response to her attempt to preserve her modesty. Lucy's cheeks flushed with a mixture of fury and shame all at once, but instead of snapping at him like she was inclined to, she simply hurried to change as quickly as possible.

As she stepped out of her jeans and grabbed for the skimpy dress, she tried her best to focus on her anger at the situation instead of letting her mind wander to the implication that he intended to continue using her body in other, more…humiliating ways. With the distraction of plotting and planning with Levy lately she had been able to stop her mind from straying to Tuesday night's sexual assault, but that didn't mean it wouldn't haunt her if she gave it the chance.

As she laced the corset to fit her snugly enough to stay up but loosely enough that her breasts wouldn't be pushed up temptingly, she hardened her resolve to figure out a way to eliminate Midnight once and for all.

She just had to focus on surviving at this point—and gathering as much information as she could.

Finally turning around, she nodded, letting him know wordlessly that she was ready. She noticed that while she'd been changing he'd picked out a pair of black heels for her to wear and given that they were one of her favorite pairs of shoes, she put them on with much less of a fuss.

Before she knew it, she had locked her door behind her and he was leading her towards downtown Magnolia.

* * *

She looked simply _delectable_ in that short little dress.

The corset accentuated her slim waist and flared out her hips, and although she'd left the upper portion loose in order to preserve what little modesty she had in the dress, the round tops of her breasts peeking out from the lace trim made him want to shove her up against a wall and simply _ravish_ her.

He decided that although he did not like the longing stares she was attracting, if she was with him and it was clear she was his, he could stand it. Flaunting his trophy to those who would never touch her body, never taste her blood, wasn't actually all that distasteful.

Possessively, he slipped his arm through hers and pulled her against him as they walked, ignoring the rigidity of her body at the unwanted contact.

Having clearly claimed her for all those watching, he felt a certain triumph as the eyes lingered momentarily and then fell away.

Midnight was perfectly fine to walk in silence and he was glad that she was too, although his was borne from enjoying the night sky while hers from discomfort and fear.

He truly had been somewhat angered by her lack of care for herself, given that he'd longed for a taste of her blood after yesterday's breakfast being so disappointing, but it wasn't entirely unfavorable to take her out for a nightly stroll and dinner. Yes, of course there were much more satisfying activities to be doing, but at the same time it was almost a novel experience to walk around with someone on his arm—a very _desirable_ someone who was _his_.

He found that the sensation wasn't terribly objectionable.

Upon reaching the center of the city—not too far of a walk from where she lived—he headed in the direction of a restaurant that suited his taste for her that night. It was a rather nice place, but they would stand out poorly in the upper-class crowd—although not so much she as him. No matter; the bistro was perfect for Lucy's nutritional needs.

With the young woman's wise decision to stay silent, it was an easy matter getting a table. Walking up to the hostess standing at the front, they were seated quickly.

He had been to quite a few places in Magnolia so far, but so far Freed's Bistro was one of the most austere establishments he'd come across. The floor was a cobalt blue carpet and the lower half of the walls consisted of polished mahogany wood and the upper portion painted a pure, creamy white. All the furniture was polished to shine like stars and dimly lit chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Everything was sharp edges and shiny polish.

They were brought over to a booth in the far back corner of the restaurant—he wanted to attract as little attention as possible. The hostess then disappeared, promising the short arrival of their waiter and leaving two menus.

The food was incredibly overpriced, but after quickly scanning the menu, he found several suitable courses that would replenish her glorious blood.

He would certainly be seeing her again Friday evening—he would have to deny himself tonight, but he could make up for it tomorrow.

After putting down the menu, he saw her eyes flitting over a menu of her own. He raised an amused eyebrow as her eyes shifted back and forth from two options, hesitating as she clearly tried to choose which one she wanted.

"I certainly hope you aren't under the impression I took you here for the enjoyment of the experience," he said, just as she seemed to come to a decision. Her large, expressive brown eyes shot up to meet his, and he was disgruntled by the impression that she had forgotten he was there.

She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, closed it, and then opened it again to finally speak. "Why _did_ you take me here? Better yet, why are you doing this at _all?_"

"Curious?" he mocked. Instead of taking the bait, she nodded seriously.

Midnight leaned back in the booth, eyes aimed at the ceiling thoughtfully. The question was certainly warranted given the situation and it shouldn't have surprised him that she was curious as to why he was doing these things to her, but other than her delicious blood and his attraction to her body, he didn't have any concrete ideas as to what he really wanted from her.

The reasons were both solid enough to warrant his behavior—especially his desire for her blood—but he couldn't help but feel that maybe there was just a little something _more_ to the issue of keeping Lucy Heartfilia alive than what immediately came to mind.

However, until he came to the conclusion as to what that something more _was_, the idea was something that would stay locked away in his mind.

"Your blood is exquisite," he said at length. She blinked, obviously not comprehending. Of course she wouldn't understand—she wasn't a vampire. "_Particularly_ exquisite." He cocked an eyebrow, daring her to challenge him. She immediately backed down, her posture losing its aggressiveness. "And your body is pleasing, as well."

This brought a flush of shame to her cheeks and she averted her eyes to look out the window, where people were milling about, talking and laughing carelessly. He could see the longing for their carefree attitudes in her eyes but said nothing.

Eventually she turned back to him. "Do you do this to people…often?" Her cheeks were still bright red.

Even though he knew what she was talking about, he was interested to find out what she defined 'this' as. "Do what to people often?"

The color flared, but she spoke despite her embarrassment. "Make them…_slaves_. For their blood…and-and stuff." She couldn't have turned any redder if she tried.

His eyebrows raised. He hadn't thought to look at it from that perspective, but he supposed in some regards she could be considered a slave. However, Midnight didn't find the thought of her calling herself a slave very tasteful.

"You're not a slave," he corrected smoothly, but offered no reasoning as to why she wasn't one. "And you won't refer to yourself as one."

There was a hint of disappointment in her eyes and she tried again. "But…have you had others like me?"

His brow furrowed suspiciously and she stiffened, looking like a child who'd been caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar. "Why so curious?"

"I-I just w-wanted to know if I was…" Her stammering was irritating.

"If you were special?" he sneered, finishing her sentence for her.

"Part of a trend," she rectified quickly, nearly interrupting him. "So I know how long…I have to live. _If_ I'm going to live."

"I suppose you do owe me your life," he murmured thoughtfully, and it was clear by her expression that she certainly didn't see things that way. He looked at her, a hard look on his face. "I don't often leave my food alive, so you _do_ owe me your life. Therefore, you are mine for as long as you remain of use. After that…"

He trailed off, shrugging.

"It depends on what I feel like doing with you."

She wilted, leaning back into her seat and covering her face with her hands. There was no relief in her scent, although since he hadn't promised to kill her once he was done with her there certainly _should_ have been. Instead, there was only overwhelming despair.

The smell wasn't particularly pleasant.

He _might_ have promised to kill her—if fact, he probably should have—but the truth was he hadn't given much thought to what would happen to her once he was no longer interested. It wasn't so much that she shouldn't be killed as much as it was that he couldn't really see himself _wanting_ to kill her.

No, no, it wasn't that.

It was that he couldn't see himself wanting to _get rid of her_ in the first place. It was strange, but it was an ever-present thought in his mind.

He was reminded then that this was just a vacation, one that had only a little over a month left, and that his sire wouldn't take kindly to him bringing home a human. It stood to reason that he couldn't simply leave her alive after he was gone, either, not with her knowledge of his kind.

Midnight decided it was a matter he would give more thought to it later. There were _always _options.

Just then the waiter appeared to take their order. Not allowing Lucy to speak, he ordered her a large salad, a medium-rare steak with a side of steamed vegetables and roasted red potatoes. At the idea of eating a rare steak she looked like she was going to argue, but he shot her a look that promised retribution if she were to speak against him. For himself, he ordered a glass of 1908 Merlot and nothing else—he had no use for human food.

If the waiter was curious as to why two unlikely people dressed like them were in such a fancy restaurant or how they were going to pay for such an expensive meal, he was wise enough to stay quiet. Reminding them that his name was Jordan and telling them that their order would be out shortly, the waiter left without a fuss.

Midnight propped his chin on his hand, leaning on the table. He never liked these kinds of restaurants; they were _boring_. But the young woman in front of him was not—and he decided that he wanted to know more about her. It was a way to pass the time, anyways.

"You're a twenty-one-year-old female in the 21st century," he commented nonchalantly. "What is it like?"

Lucy had been looking out the window with that same longing on her face, but at his question her eyes snapped back in his direction. It was clear she was startled by his sudden interest.

"Well, I guess…I mean, I don't know? That's like me asking what it's like to be a however-old-you-are…er…" She lowered voice almost inaudibly so that only he could hear it. "…vampire."

"I believe it's three-hundred and forty-seven in November, if I remember correctly," he said with a smirk, enjoying the way she stiffened at the large number. "And it's quite enjoyable. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. The world is my oyster."

Swallowing with some difficulty, she asked, "Then…you were born in the 1800's?"

"Something like that." He cocked a brow, letting her know that he had no interest in talking about himself.

She caught the hint. "Well, I work at a café right now…" the look on her face told him that she knew he knew that, but she went on anyways, "because I'm saving up for college. It's so expensive now that you have to have serious funds if you want to stay out of debt."

"Debt, hm…? These days, aren't parents supposed to help out with that kind of thing?"

She suddenly looked wary. "My father doesn't support me anymore." Her expression was hardened defensively. He was curious about that—especially the way she only said _father_—but decided that it wasn't important at the moment. However…

"So you're alone in the big, bad world?" he taunted with a toothy smirk. The way she went rigid told him that she had been hoping he wouldn't make the connection.

"I have my friends," she snapped, "and they're better than any blood relative I could ever ask for."

He chuckled, amused at her vehemence. Some good her friends were doing her now—they were only helping him keep her under his thumb. After a moment, he went on curiously. "And school; what will you study?"

"Given that I live that long?" Her voice spoke of irritation and apprehension in equal parts. "Theology."

"Theology," he repeated flatly. "Do you have no aspirations in life?"

She glowered at his insult. "I've always been interested in celestial beings and religions and all that. They give the world meaning."

Midnight wondered then if she understood that they were carrying on a normal conversation much like two people on a first date would. From the annoyed look on her face and the way she was glaring at him, fear only like an afterthought in her scent, he found it safe to assume she hadn't come to that realization yet.

However, _he_ had…and he found he didn't mind it all that much. It was strange, thinking of this outing as a date, but not wholly unpalatable. And even though she was only not terrified of him at the moment because he was acting somewhat normal, it wasn't so bad, this lack of fear. It couldn't go on forever, of course, because he much preferred being feared to being respected or admired, but while this comfortable conversation lasted he decided he would enjoy it.

It was quiet for a moment, but before he let her catch up to his thought process and realize they were acting _normal_, he continued the conversation. "I can tell you as someone who will live longer than you could ever comprehend, _religion_ is all a joke."

She frowned at him. "Even if it is," she replied hotly, "humans are meaning-givers. If we don't keep believing in _something_, we'll lose hope. It's like the thought of an afterlife—there's no proof, but it gives us comfort to think that there's something that comes after all the suffering and pain in the world. That's basically what religion gives us—hope and meaning."

He mused on that silently. It was an interesting notion; he'd never given the idea much thought before. He supposed for short-lived humans, the thought of something better after death _could_ be comforting. As a human—a terrible time he didn't make any effort to recall very often—he'd only sought a way to find power and transcend the mortal suffering of the world. Upon meeting his sire and having his wish granted, going from the victim to the victimizer, he'd found no need for an afterlife or a religion—he _owned_ this world and there was no need to believe in anyone other than himself or a want to think there was something more after he died. Because he had the here and now; he _never_ had to die.

"An interesting thought, Lucy dear," he purred. She stiffened uncomfortably when he said her name and he didn't doubt that she disliked hearing him refer to her so familiarly. At the same time, way her name rolled of his tongue was almost…sensual to him. He found he liked it. "But even with all that said and done, how are you to make a living with such a useless degree?"

She huffed. "I'll find a way. There are plenty of things I can do—and it doesn't matter how much money I make as long as I'm…happy…."

It seemed the despair of her situation had suddenly hit her full force once more and she clammed up. Chances were that none of her dreams of going to college for _theology _of all things or making a happy, if not meager living, were going to ever come true.

She couldn't do such things if he were present in her life and quite honestly, he found he had no intention of leaving her anytime soon.

There wasn't much of a lull in conversation before the food arrived. The rest of the meal was had in silence, with only a stern _'Eat all of it'_ to remind her why they were _truly_ at this restaurant. The wine was decent as far as he was concerned; it looked enough like blood to give him the impression of having fed even if he wasn't all that hungry in the first place.

She ate almost everything he'd given her—she finished the salad and the vegetables and potatoes, but since she was unused to such rare meat she had a little harder time eating the steak. Still, she managed to force most of it down and that was all he cared about.

The walk back to her apartment was a quiet affair after, for once, actually paying for the meal. Midnight decided he'd enjoyed the outing all in all, even if he wasn't going be able to taste her delicious blood the way he wanted to.

Still…

They arrived at her doorstep and she gave him a tentative, frightened look—they were back to their regular dynamic of her fearing him and him using her for his own purposes.

He smirked at her, leaning against the wall adjacent to her casually. "Tomorrow, 11pm. _Alone_."

Lucy's eyes widened at thought of seeing him again so soon. She looked like she was going to protest, however weakly, but he wasn't going to allow it.

"Tonight was a waste of my time because I had to take care of _you,_" he told her. She flinched at his words. "So I'll see you tomorrow. Problem?"

She heard the challenge and threat in his voice and wisely didn't step up to the plate.

Wordlessly, she averted her eyes and nodded, turning to the front door to let herself in. Just as it unlocked and she was about to step in, he spoke again.

"Lucy."

Wary at the dangerously soft tone of his voice, she turned back to him. She was biting her lower lip nervously and his eyes were drawn to her rosy, plump mouth.

It was pure instinct from that moment on.

He stepped forward quickly and yanked her into him, crushing his lips against hers. Terrified and broken out of whatever complacency she'd felt at the seemingly nonthreatening night, she screamed and tried to push him away. Gripping her forearms to disarm her, he switched their positions and slammed her against the wall he'd been leaning on, pressing himself up against her lush body and forcing her lips open with his tongue.

Like seemingly all of her, her mouth had a pleasing flavor to it. He pried her grit teeth open and slipped his cool tongue into her hot cavern. She was screaming, but her cries were muffled by his lips. He forced her tongue to dance with his and was thoroughly enjoying the kiss when her teeth suddenly tried to clamp down on his tongue.

He pulled away just in time before she could attempt to sever his tongue with her teeth. "Your friends," he threatened breathlessly, and then his mouth was on hers again.

When he thrust his tongue inside her mouth again, she was limp and pliant but no less unwilling. Her lips were soft against his own and her mouth was hot and velvety, so despite her lack of participation the action of kissing her was definitely pleasant.

Even if it served no real purpose—it wouldn't arouse her, nor would it be a decent way to feed on her—he decided he would do it more often regardless.

She was exhaling heavily through her nose and he was reminded that unlike him, she needed to breathe. He pulled away at last, leaving a parting cut on her inner bottom lip with his fang and pulling several hot drops of her blood from her wound, sucking hard on her lip.

The tantalizing taste of her delicious flavor, just a few teasing droplets, would have to last him until the next day.

And then he was pulling away, releasing her and stepping back. Her forearms would have bruises where he'd gripped her too tightly in the moment of passion, but he knew she would be smart enough to cover them up however she needed to.

Lucy was panting, leaning almost limply on the wall he'd pushed her up against with her eyes closed a slow tears trickling from between her eyelids. Her visage was truly beautiful and the mere thought was enough to surprise him.

Nonetheless, he made sure he was gone by the time she finally opened her eyes.

* * *

_I'm happy to say that this is probably one of the longest chapters I've ever posted on Fanfiction. Please, please, please review!_

_By the way, everyone, when SCH is finished there will be a Zeref/Lucy fic that I will be posting. :)_

_Poll Question:_

If you could choose for any Fairy Tail character to be a real person, who would it be?

_Please, remember to review!_


	6. Roku

_Hey everyone!_

_New chapter, right on time! Not much to say except for the warnings._

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT NON-CONSENT SITUATIONS. **(They will be marked, of course.)

**Also, just so everyone knows (I should have said this earlier, honestly...)**

**AROUSAL DOES NOT EQUAL CONSENT!**

_Alright everyone! On with the story!_

* * *

Work the next morning couldn't come soon enough.

Lucy was full of energy when she arrived. It was the longest time she'd had to recuperate since being accosted by Midnight last Saturday and she felt refreshed. The meal last night had been wonderfully reenergizing and the restaurant had been great, Midnight's unwanted presence and the awkward conversation notwithstanding. She had shoved the forced kiss from her mind, just as she'd promised herself she would do with all of his unwanted sexual advances.

Despite immensely disliking interactions with him in any way, Lucy felt she'd received more information than ever could have hoped for. She didn't feel like she'd been very successful when she'd tried asking her own questions, although he had answered them semi-helpfully and didn't seem to have suspected anything. Of course, he'd been more interested her for some _strange_ reason given that there was no reason for their connection besides her blood and the other thing she wouldn't mention, not even in the recesses of her mind.

Her shift started earlier than usual, catering more to the breakfast rush than her usual lunchtime shift. She figured that Levy wouldn't be there for a while, but when eleven o'clock came around and Levy wasn't there, Lucy was nervous that something had happened to her—related to Midnight—and went to check the schedule to make sure the blue-haired young woman was coming in at all. She couldn't risk seeing her outside of work given that Midnight could possibly follow them and overhear their incriminating conversations. That simply couldn't happen.

However, Levy was due to come in at three in the afternoon and she showed up promptly at that time in the customary blue uniform. Lucy gave her a meaningful look when their eyes met as Levy headed to the back to clock-in and her friend nodded in return. Unfortunately, since Levy had come in so late, the blonde would be hard-pressed to get a reasonable length of time to speak to her before she had to leave to avoid suspicion. After Midnight had watched her leave on Monday, she had no idea how much he knew about her work schedule. She wasn't willing to risk anything.

Luckily, Levy convinced Yajima to let her have lunch break at four—which was when Lucy got off. They met up in the back, where they waited patiently for Callie to pack up her things after her shift.

"You two certainly are close, aren't you?" Callie observed casually after she had changed into a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt that did nothing to disguise her voluptuous figure. "Always back here, being so secretive."

Lucy winced at the observation, but Levy just shrugged. "I'm having guy problems and breaks are the best time to discuss them. Lord knows he hogs up the rest of my free time."

Callie gave a wry smile and only shook her head before waving and leaving. Lucy slumped into her chair, relieved, after the older woman was gone.

"Nice save," she said, smiling. "But have we never really spent so much time together? I've always felt close to you."

Levy grinned, but it was half-hearted. "We've never not been able to talk about things outside of 8-Island."

"Ha…yeah," Lucy replied weakly. Then she perked up a little. "I have news."

"Already?" Levy's eyebrows rose.

"Well, last night he said that I haven't been taking care of myself and took me out to dinner."

Levy's expression was skeptical. "…Really? So far that seems way out of character. From what I can tell, dinner isn't exactly his M.O."

Lucy shook her head. "Not at all. I was surprised, too, but it worked in our favor. He actually…wanted to talk? I don't think you could really call it a conversation, but it gave me some time to pry."

Her friend motioned for her to go on. Lucy took a deep breath, steeling herself before she had to relive the experience. It hadn't been terrible—the only thing she really had to block out was that _kiss_.

"It didn't really go well asking questions, but I don't think he suspected anything. He _is_ over three hundred—he said three-hundred and forty-seven in…November, I think." Levy's eyes widened and Lucy nodded in agreement. "I know, I can't even fathom being that old. He, uh, also said that it's not usual for him to leave victims alive afterward and that as long as I remain 'useful,' then he'll let me live."

Levy's eyebrows furrowed. "That's…not good. Did he tell you why he's decided to keep you alive?"

The blonde frowned. "He said my blood was 'particularly exquisite'…"

"_And your body is pleasing, as well."_

Blood rushed to her face and she turned away from Levy's watchful eyes.

"-and that's all," she rushed.

Levy frowned and there was a knowing look her eyes.

"He's not using you for-"

"No!"

It was too hurried of a response.

"No." She cleared her throat nervously. "No, not _that_ at all. Just, uh, yeah. My blood."

Levy frowned deeply but clearly understood that Lucy did not want to talk about it. When she went on, even though the look on her face told her that once again, Lucy was a horrible liar, it wasn't on the same subject.

"So, you're his meal ticket basically because apparently you taste _really_ good," Levy said, almost flatly. "And he doesn't usually keep his victims alive, but you taste _so_ good that he's willing to make you a serious liability. I don't know, Lu, but I think we're missing something big here."

Lucy went pale. "There's nothing else. Anything else he said wasn't too important as far as the situation goes. He's mean, arrogant, and extremely condescending. And unfortunately, he's also kind of intelligent."

"It's to be expected if someone's lived that long," Levy replied. "Even as a vampire. Just because they're at the top of the food chain doesn't mean that surviving is easy—especially because their greatest strength is that the general populace doesn't know they exist. If everyone suddenly realized vampires existed, there'd be mass chaos."

"But wouldn't everyone just want to hunt them down? With enough of us in it, we could get rid of them altogether."

Levy sighed. "It's not that simple. I asked Gajeel about it recently—I was trying to figure out a solution for you—and he said that there _are_ law enforcers and politicians who know about vampires. It's really hush-hush, of course, but people in power do know about them. They've made the conscious decision to not say anything."

Rage slammed into Lucy like a tidal wave. "Why not?" she demanded. "I wouldn't be in this whole mess if-"

"No, it'd be worse," Levy cut off seriously. "Those people are _smart_ not to say anything."

"I don't think I understand," Lucy replied hotly. "Letting innocent people die because of _why?_"

"Lucy…" Levy exhaled harshly as she struggled to explain the situation. "As far as being at the top of the food chain goes, vampires haven't been very ambitious. Do you know how easily they could take over the _world_ if enough of them decided they wanted to? Because vampires are notoriously independent and usually only stay in small groups because it makes life easier, there probably isn't a coven large enough to do anything drastic."

"…Coven?" Lucy asked.

"It's what a group of vampires is called, I guess. Like a murder of crows or a flock of sheep. I don't know, really, but that's what Gajeel says. He's in one. Anyways, depending on how strong the vampire is, they can pose a serious threat in a fight. Get enough of those really strong vampires together and that's a war we might actually lose."

The realization hit Lucy pretty hard. "You mean…_vampires_ could take over the _world?_"

Levy shook her head. "I don't know, maybe. But that's the thing—there hasn't been any reason to because things work just the way they are. Gajeel told me that vampire hunter guilds do exist to keep the vampire population from overwhelming us, but anyone who knows about them and goes to the police are usually sworn to silence. The way things are now _works_ in terms of the greater good."

"So you're telling me…" Lucy was disbelieving. "If I were to go to the police, I'd just be told to keep quiet?"

"I don't know about your situation specifically. The fact that your life is in danger and you're going through something akin to torture, they might contact a guild. But…"

Hope fluttered through her before it wilted. "But he's threatened Natsu and Gray's lives and if he caught wind of what I was doing, I just _know_ it wouldn't end well. I'm not willing to take that risk."

Levy frowned. "Maybe it's…I don't know."

"And so the people that are killed—what happens to their families? Are they lied to?"

"I suppose so."

Lucy flushed in anger. "That's despicable. This whole thing is just _disgusting._ People are being murdered and their families don't even know-" She was brought to pause. "Wait a second. Lev, how are _you_ allowed to know this stuff? If secrecy is so important for everyone, why did Gajeel tell you?"

Now Levy was flushed, but for an entirely different reason. "I kind of…walked in on Gajeel feeding once. He had to tell me then, but he didn't want to kill me. And it's…up in the air about what he's going to do about it. He might have to turn me." Levy's eyes hardened. "You are the only person beside Gajeel who knows I know. You _can't_ say anything. We've been keeping it a secret and it cannot get out or I might be forced to be turned."

Lucy's eyes widened and the anger rushed out of her. "No! You can't become a-"

"I'm hoping it won't come to that. You _can't_ tell anyone."

"On my mother's grave," Lucy swore. "I promise."

Levy smiled weakly before forcibly changing the subject. "Well, we still need more information. But now that Gajeel has told me about the guilds, there's a chance we can contact one on our own and they can do something about it. Even though they're technically there to just cull the population, some are really determined to just get rid of all of them. That's preferable for everyone, I think, but only of few guilds apparently try for that extent."

"Would Gajeel know any of them?"

Levy snorted. "No. He's a vampire, remember? He has no business with guilds."

"Of course not," Lucy said with a sigh. Then her eyes found the clock. "Oh, Lev, you'd better get something to eat. Your break's almost over and I need to get going in case…he's watching."

The blue-haired girl nodded. "Yeah, definitely. Keep trying to get information, okay?"

Lucy nodded. "Absolutely."

They embraced and Lucy hurried to leave. On her way out the door, Lucy's cell phone rang. It was Natsu and it turned out that he and Gray wanted to come over to plan Erza's surprise birthday party. Warily, Lucy agreed on the stipulation that it could only be a little while.

Thankfully, she didn't get the feeling she was being watched at all on her way home and for once she felt a measure of safety.

* * *

Not long after, Natsu and Gray arrived.

It was so _normal_, plotting and planning and scheming with her friends. It was like a breath of fresh air in the smog of the disastrous turn of events in her life.

The sky had darkened considerably and Lucy absently went to close the curtains in her living room to maintain some privacy. Natsu and Gray were still arguing over which restaurant was _really_ Erza's favorite and the incessant banter was something like a peaceful background buzzing.

It was only upon reaching for the curtains to close them, glancing outside to look at the sky, when she noticed just exactly _how_ late it was. Her eyes found the clock.

10:52pm.

She panicked.

Pulling the curtains shut with sudden vehemence, Lucy turned to her friends.

"Hey, do you think we can continue this tomorrow?" Her words came out rushed, no matter how she tried to keep her terror inconspicuous. Midnight always emphasized the _'alone.'_ He'd stated he would kill anyone who was there uninvited.

Lucy's heart raced, feeling like it was going to burst from her chest.

Natsu and Gray turned to her. "Uh…yeah?"

"Good," she said in a slightly-too-high-pitched voice. She began to usher them towards her front door. "Off you go!" Her voice was too nervous not to betray her fear, no matter how she tried to appear unaffected.

Then she felt eyes on her and horror zinged down her spine. Jerking towards the window, she confirmed that the curtains had been successfully closed. So why…?

Not having any more time to think on the issue, she almost shoved them towards the door.

"Oi!" Natsu protested. "What's the sudden rush?"

"Everything okay?" Gray asked, not as oblivious as Natsu and obviously catching wind of her panic.

Lucy shook her head. "Everything's-"

She saw the flicker of a shadow from the corner of her eye, just in her peripheral vision. Upon recognizing the silhouette whose shadow was just noticeable on the wall by the staircase, she knew immediately that Midnight was standing on the stairs just out of sight; she wouldn't have known it if the light wasn't outlining him just right.

"Out! Out!" she said shrilly, heart frozen in her chest.

Natsu looked at her strangely and Gray gave her a look that promised questions later, but within moments they were out the door safely. Exhaling in relief and slumping against the door, she tried to catch her breath.

Said breath was snatched away when Midnight spoke, his tone frigid.

"I told you to be _alone._"

"Th-they weren't meant to be here this late! I lost track of time!" she stammered fearfully. "It-it won't happen again."

He sniffed haughtily. "For their sakes, I certainly hope not." He observed her and seemed pleased with what he saw. "Good. You slept."

Lucy nodded in hesitant confirmation. It was true; the bags under her eyes were noticeably better after her deep, restful sleep last night. Her skin had regained some of its pallor and over all, she looked much healthier. She still wore the scarf and the bruises on her forearms from the night before had been covered up with a generous slathering of concealer, but other than the scarf and the slightly darker tone of her arms, she appeared perfectly normal.

Midnight descended down the staircase slowly and every deliberate step made her shiver. She vaguely recalled not being afraid of him momentarily at dinner last night, but it seemed like a far off memory with how threatening he was making himself as he approached her—his eyes never wavered from hers and she could see the hunger in his red irises.

Unfortunately, she knew now the color wasn't due to contacts.

He stopped once he was directly in front of her. Long, claw-tipped fingers grasped her chin and tilted it upwards, then turned it side to side. She couldn't help but wonder fearfully what he was thinking, what was putting that thoughtful expression on his face.

It was revealed soon enough; he suddenly jerked her toward him and forced his lips onto hers, much like the night previous.

She shrieked and instinctively tried to pull away. However, the low, dangerous growl that was emitted from deep within his throat brought her to pause.

Still gripping her chin tightly, he pressed her up against her front door. She whimpered as the doorknob pressed into her back but he ignored her discomfort, pushing his tongue into her mouth and exploring her heatedly.

Lucy's stomach turned in disgust at the passion that was evident in the kiss and she couldn't stop the helpless tears that leaked from her eyes as she closed them in resignation. Kissing wasn't _so_ bad, she supposed, but if he tried to take it further, she couldn't just _not _struggle.

She knew, even though she wanted to deny it, that he probably wouldn't stop at kissing that night.

* * *

**-begin explicit content-**

He pulled away, allowing her to breathe as he began to fondle her, brushing his thumbs over her clothed nipples roughly. Her stomach churned uncomfortably at his unwanted touch and she wanted to beg him to stop, but then he was kissing her again and her words were caught in her throat.

His hands trailed down from her heaving chest to her waist, running down her sensitive sides, before he gripped her rear and pulled her hips against his. She felt a bulge in his pants and the sudden realization that he might _rape_ her brought a new rush of panic.

She shoved at his chest, desperately trying to make some space between them and let out a loud cry of protest into his mouth. He punished her by crushing her brutally into the wall, the pressure making it even harder to breathe and he growled like a predatory animal.

His tongue was tangling passionately with hers, even though she made no motion to reciprocate. Then he abruptly slid his hands down from her rear and parted her thighs, lifting her legs effortlessly and forcing them to wrap around his waist.

Lucy shrieked and fought harder at the intimate touch of his groin against her core, her panic only increasing as he began to grind into her. She tried to twist away from the kiss, to tell him to _stop_, but with the painful pressure he was applying to her lips kept her head stuck in place.

At long last he let her breathe when he pulled away and she could only gasp for air as he trailed kisses down her jawline in the direction of her neck. He paused right over his previous bite.

"We're going to conduct an experiment," he told her, but before she could stay anything, he reopened her wounds and bit down harshly.

Only a pained, gasped whimper passed her lips as he let her blood flow into his mouth. She wasn't sure what experiment he was supposedly 'conducting,' but she thought it might have something to do with her blood when he pulled away from her neck only shortly after he bit her.

Then he was backing away from the door, keeping her anchored to him by her legs. Within moments they were back on the couch and Lucy knew what was going to come next.

"No! No!" she screamed. He smirked at her wickedly.

"I came prepared this time," was in non-sequitur response, and then out of his back pocket he pulled out a thick black piece of fabric.

She was about to beg him to stop when he suddenly stuffed the rag into her mouth, jamming it in fully. She immediately tried to remove it, but he pinned her wrists together and his belt was restraining her arms, just as it had the first time this had happened.

Lucy screamed desperately at her complete, utter helplessness, but the rag did its job in muffling her. Yet again he ripped through her shirt and she thought, in such hysterical denial that it was almost funny, that she shouldn't have worn one of her favorite shirts that day, nor should she do so any other time Midnight told her he would visit her.

The bra was next to go and he cupped her breasts, rubbing clawed fingertips over her nipples until they pebbled. Her skin prickled in revulsion but there was nothing she could do but thrash and cry uselessly.

His mouth latched onto her right breast just as he removed his hands to unbutton her jeans. She bucked to try and dislodge him, but he only returned the action by grinding his pelvis into her. He had hardened considerably since the very beginning; what had once just been a bulge was a formidable hardness that spoke of pain in what was probably the near future.

He removed her jeans entirely that time with quick maneuvering, bringing her innocent white cotton panties with them instead of shredding them. He was still suckling her breast, alternately nipping her with his fangs painfully and soothing the little bits with his inhumanly heatless tongue.

She let out a wretched, muffled cry when she felt the stirrings of arousal in her lower abdomen.

Midnight quickly spread her thighs once more, having allowed them to close in order to take off her jeans and panties, and was tickling her clit with his claw. It was unfortunately arousing despite the knowledge that in an easy, singular moment of harshness he could cut her there very painfully.

Having fully attended to her right breast, he switched to her left with growing fervor and two fingers were pushed into her core. She winced and whimpered at the uncomfortable stretching feeling, but was despairingly thankful that he hadn't cut her like last time.

He immediately targeted her traitorous bundle of nerves, his tempo so precise and rapid that against her will, she was bucking her hips in time with movements.

Her abdomen clenched so hard in almost hurt when she suddenly came. A loud moan, strained as it was when she tried to choke it down, erupted from her throat as she spasmed around him.

He pulled away from her breast and then quickly bit down in her neck, breaking through the barely-scabbed-over marks in the same place he always seemed to target.

She was only under the illusion that he would stop for a moment. He pulled away from her neck, although a little more quickly than she thought he would, and she thought her shameful ordeal was over. However, he only yanked the black fabric from her mouth and replaced it with his lips and tongue. The movement of his fingers resumed, faster and harder than before.

It took less time than before to make her come again and he swallowed her cry with his lips this time, the volume raising in volume due to her heightened sensitively after the first orgasm.

Using his free hand to cover her mouth, he returned to her neck and tasted her again, but only briefly before kissing her again and then forcing her to orgasm once more.

She lost track of time and refused to count how many times he shamefully made her come and then fed on her, but what she did know that it was _too_ many times. Of course, just once was too many, but by the time latched onto her neck and began to feed in earnest, her thighs were trembling from how hard they'd repeatedly clenched and her body was lax and weak. She didn't have the energy to even open her eyes, not even to scream when her mouth was no longer covered. Even her tears had stopped given that there were no more to cry.

**-end explicit content-**

* * *

She was nearing unconsciousness when he at last licked over the skin he'd broken and got off her. She was so defeated by the humiliating experience that she couldn't find it within her to worry about whether he was going to remove the belt from her wrists.

When he returned, she was surprised to find that he was holding a glass of orange juice—one of the groceries she'd bought the day after he'd first assaulted her.

"Drink," he commanded. When he lifted the glass to her lips, it was all she could do to slightly part them and allow the juice to flow into her mouth. She swallowed sluggishly and he tipped the glass slowly until she'd drank all of it. Her stomach protested at the liquid, but she was able to keep it down without too much trouble.

Then the belt was removed and Lucy let out a soft sigh of relief that he would finally be leaving. She decided she would simply fall asleep on the couch because there was no way she could muster the energy to climb that _long_ staircase and somehow make it to her bed.

It didn't get that far because suddenly she was being lifted up. Midnight had one arm in the crook of her knees and the other under her shoulders, cradling her small body against his chest.

She knew she wasn't thinking clearly when she willingly rested her head against him, closing her eyes and wishing to fall asleep. It was horrifying to think that she could find even the slightest respite with him, not after all the horrible things he did to her.

And yet she was asleep before they were even halfway up the staircase.

* * *

_A special thank you to all my reviewers!_

**_Hana-Taisho,_**_ I hope the limeyness met your expectations! **RubyDemonXoXo, Betsy, suminong,** **SalamandaLove,**and_ **_LChan3607,_** _thank you so much for your reviews! **FandomWhore2000, **I really try to keep all the borrowed characters as true to the original as possible. Midnight's easy to write because I have lots of experience with writing his type of mercilessness._

_**Gal Can't Help It **- just thank you. You seem to read all my stories so much, even if you don't know the fandom, and that just touches me as a writer. Thank you so much for your support! _

_A special thank-you to **ErzaDreyar**, who has kept me afloat with her encouraging words - I've been super depressed because this story doesn't seem to be getting much attention and I've worked so hard on it! :/ But all you reviewers make it worth it! I'll keep with it til the very end - and trust me, the end is a pretty long way off. I know - I've been writing ahead. ;) So you can expect pretty regular updates from now on! Thursdays should be when you expect a new chapter!_

_To anyone I didn't address in this last part, I do apologize. I'm trying to get to everyone, but sometimes I make mistakes. Either way, I hope you'll all continue to review._

_Cheers!_

_Of Healing Love_


	7. Shichi

_Hey everyone!_

_New chapter, on time. I like to think this one is a decent length. Not much to say here other than that it's a completely game-changing chapter, so read on!_

* * *

His experiment had proved quite fruitful.

Not only was her blood more delicious after an orgasm, it became ever richer and more dizzyingly delightful the more she came. By the end, he had been hard-pressed not to simply finish her off.

He'd drank too much, so he'd been obligated to get her something to strengthen her body in order to ensure her survival, hence the orange juice. As such, his inability to control his bloodlust meant that he would have to stay with her through the night to make sure she didn't die. Obviously a hospital visit was out of the question, even though she could probably use some donated blood at the moment—even if it would temporarily dilute her flavor. He would simply have to monitor her and wake her up every hour or so to force food and drink down her mouth if her breathing slowed too much.

If that didn't work, he'd just have to improvise. He _wasn't_ going to let her die on him.

He leaned her against the wall across from her bed, noting her naked form. He wasn't quite sure why he did it, but choosing at random a t-shirt and shorts from her chest of drawers, he quickly clothed her unconscious body before picking her up again.

Laying her on her bed and tucking her under the pale pink comforter, he watched her breathe softly and peacefully. The moon shone in from her window, illuminating her skin and making her look almost like an angel. Her blonde hair was shimmery and pale in the whitish-blue light and her dark lashes fluttered against her cheekbones as she slept.

Thoughtlessly, he brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. She shivered weakly at the feather-light touch of his claws.

Before he knew it, he was tracing the contours of her face with a black nail, feeling the softness of her skin, porcelain in the moonlight, and watching her almost reverently.

He knew then that he couldn't get her go. Somehow, some way, in the short span of just under a week he had become attached. It should have been impossible and yet it had happened. It was a foreign, unwelcome feeling. Even in his human life he'd never been romantically attached to anyone, too focused on finding the life he knew he deserved. Once he had obtained his immortality, power, and consequent vengeance, he had tirelessly worked for his sire as repayment for his turning. After he'd completed his debt—some two hundred years ago—he'd found his sire had a lifestyle to offer that Midnight couldn't refuse. There was security in his position, as well as the promise of plenty of thrilling hunts and it was a good way to grow in power and skill. He could safely say he'd surpassed his sire by now, as well as the four others who worked alongside him. At this point he was content with what he had, although should his life ever become unfavorable he could easily up and leave. His sire might begrudge him for it, in fact he would—but both of them knew that he could do nothing if Midnight no longer wished to obey his orders. Not if he valued his life.

But Midnight was satisfied with his situation. There was no reason to change anything.

This unexpected attachment could be problematic, however, for the way he liked to live. As she was, Lucy was a weakness. Even if he turned her—and that did not appeal to him at the moment—she would remain an issue of liability. He had enemies, vampire and human alike, who would gladly eliminate her to retaliate against him. Something about her death bothered him greatly—he wasn't fond of the feeling, but it was there.

There was a reason he didn't form connections with others; a reason why he kept others at arm's length. It was relatively easy because the scent of fear was tantalizing and he found that screams borne from his victims' pain were the most beautiful music he'd ever heard. He had been called things like 'psycho,' sadistic, and bloodthirsty many times—even by his fellow vampires and not all of them had been enemies.

It would be so much smarter to kill her now. It had been alright to keep her alive when she was nothing more than a plaything, but with actual _feelings_ involved it was no longer acceptable. She was sleeping so soundlessly…she would feel a small stab of pain as he drained the rest of her blood from her body, and then she would be gone forever. Killing her that way would be the kindest, most humane thing he'd ever done in probably his entire life, his time as a human included.

But as soon as the thought came it was rejected. He was rather irritated by his hesitance to get rid of her, to eliminate what was only a _weakness_; since the moment he'd turned, he'd killed on instinct and never had a trace of remorse.

And still, he couldn't bring himself to just end her. It would be so simple; no struggle, no consciousness. He wouldn't even have to watch the life fade from her doe-like brown eyes—the sight had never bothered him before, in fact he'd relished it at times, but he found the thought of seeing it in her was distasteful.

He was getting in too deep and he wasn't even quite sure as to why—he didn't fully understand what this attachment stemmed from, what it meant, _why_ he had it. But he was aware of its presence and he knew, he _knew_ he should nip it at the bud, burn whatever this feeling was to ashes and then stamp out the embers irrevocably. This would only create problems for his already perfectly satisfying life.

His fangs lengthened as he seriously considered the possibility of just getting her death over with. It had been unwise to keep her alive after all, even though he would miss her blood; he was pathetic if he could form an attachment so easily over a few disjointed meetings. Was he so lonely that he'd latch onto the first person who he decided to keep around for just a little while?

He understood, then, why his sire didn't allow humans into the base.

Still, _still_ he hesitated, even as he convinced himself to taste her blood for what would be the last time. What was it about this girl that stopped him from killing her? _Why was she so special?_

She was nothing, _nothing_ useful to him, not really. Her blood was exquisite and something he'd miss dearly once she was gone, but even that was not worth the troubles she brought—things like attachment, weakness, vulnerability. If having her around for just this short while had already evoked such intense feelings within him, keeping her any longer would just be disastrous. He had been foolish to let her live in the first place.

There was no option; he had to do it. Even if he regretted it for a little while, it wouldn't be too long before she was just a faded memory—and then she would be forgotten entirely.

Lifting her up by the front of her shirt—remembering the way he'd gone out of his way to clothe her brought a wave of self-castigation and disgust—he inspected the slender column of her neck where the bruise he'd given her had flared up again from the intense feeding he'd done earlier. He leaned into her, nuzzling her soft skin and inhaling her sweet cinnamon and honey scent for the last time.

He swiftly bit down with the intent to kill-

_What?_

-and his fangs immediately retracted, his appetite for her blood turned into the long-forgotten, _human_ feeling of nausea, and he abruptly pulled back from her neck, repulsed at himself suddenly, inexplicably.

He had been entirely ready to do it, had finally convinced himself that it was truly necessary, and now his body was actively going against him—some instinct within him _would not let him kill her_.

Midnight stared at the limp, helpless human girl he was still holding up by her shirt in horror and awe all at once.

_What did this mean?_

Mustering up every memory of how delicious she tasted, how his bloodlust soared whenever he tasted her blood, he consciously made his fangs lengthen once more.

Yet again, when he went in with the intent to kill her, it was a repeat experience of repulsion and nausea, his fangs refusing to pierce her.

His brows furrowed in consternation. Something was wrong.

Did he have to strangle her to get this over with? He supposed it would be a more natural death. Or, if he didn't want to waste her blood, he could slit open her throat and drink from her that way since his instincts to feed didn't want to cooperate. Yes, he would bleed her out a slightly less conventional way, but it would get the job done. It _had_ to be done. Lucy Heartfilia _had_ to die.

Even with all the conviction in him that he could possibly muster, Midnight found himself simply staring at her, not able to make any move to follow through with his decision.

He couldn't do it. Almost desperately at this point, he grasped her wrist with bruising force and bared the palm that had been cut when he crushed her phone. The wound had healed well but would still easily open.

He ran a claw down the cut lengthwise and blood seeped to the surface slowly, a testament to how much he had drained already. At her fresh scent, he was relieved that his fangs sharpened on their own. It seemed he just needed the right motivation.

Lapping at the red liquid to make sure he maintained his bloodlust, he was able to swiftly bite down on her wrist and begin to suck viciously.

Good, now he could finally kill-

Suddenly he was yanking away from her and spitting the blood out of his mouth. Her flavor was no less appetizing, but nonetheless he was disgusted by it.

His eyes widened in panic. No matter what he did, no matter how much he _needed _to, he could not kill her.

He was on his feet immediately. He knew she'd replaced her cell phone—he'd noticed it laying on her dining room table when he'd arrived. He was going to need it.

The moment it was in his hand he was dialing the number of the one person besides his sire who could possibly explain to him why this was happening. Even though he wasn't stronger than Midnight anymore, he was the oldest of the children—the first human his sire had ever turned.

The phone rang three times before a gruff voice answered. "Who's this?"

"Cobra."

There was a moment of silence and then, "Midnight? What the hell is this? I'm on a mission!"

"You will make time," Midnight responded tightly. Cobra obviously sensed the urgency in his voice because he sighed heavily.

"You're lucky I'm not in the field right now. What?"

"I can't kill a human."

There was a pregnant pause. "Can't or won't?"

"_Can't._ As in _can not._"

"You can_not_ kill a human. There's a story behind this."

Midnight took the cue to explain the situation, keeping the details to a bare minimum and only giving the most important details.

Cobra was quiet for a long time before he at last said, "Well, fuck."

The younger vampire had been angered at his own weakness and had fully expected Cobra to burst out into laughter at his predicament, but he found that the way his comrade had responded so seriously bothered him more than if he'd found it amusing.

"Explain." His tone was a careful monotone.

"And here I thought that shit was outdated by now," Cobra said, more to himself than anything. He went on to explain, "Well, you've found your mate."

"What." It wasn't exactly a question so much as a statement of flat, muted horror.

Cobra was quiet, as though considering how to respond. "I'm guessing it's pretty rare for anyone these days to come across this kind of situation because I haven't heard of it in about four hundred years. Basically, as vampires we can occasionally stumble across others who we instinctively gravitate towards. Humans call it 'love at first sight,' but that's nothing like what we go through—vampires have it _much_ worse."

Midnight felt a cold pit forming in his stomach. "Go on."

"From what the guy told me, he was insanely attracted to this chick's blood, just like you. Couldn't kill her though, not the first time and not in the end. He could feed to his heart's content, but if he crossed a certain boundary—probably getting too close to killing her, now that I think about it—he'd get sick as shit and couldn't feed until she was fully healthy again. He wasn't as batshit crazy as you, but he tried to find other ways to get rid of her and fucked all those up, too. Hired someone to kill her and that finally worked, but the moment it was done he went totally insane and killed the guy."

"So there's a way to get rid of her, then." Midnight wasn't sure if he was relieved or not and he hated the uncertainty. He should be _happy_ about it.

"I wasn't finished, kid." Midnight really hated it when Cobra called him that. "Yeah, he got rid of her—but like I said, he went _insane_. The way he acted before he killed himself makes you, even when you're on one of your crazy killing sprees, look like a fucking harmless little kitten."

Midnight found that hard to believe, but he didn't care about the semantics. "You said he killed himself."

"It took about fifty miserable years, but in the end he missed her too much and stayed outside past dawn to let the sun do its thing. Said he wanted to be with her and all that. Crazy fucker."

Midnight was silent, trying to come to terms with just how in deep he _really_ was.

"I've heard other stories like that in passing, but usually once someone finds their mate they just settle down with 'em and do that domestic bullshit."

"The other stories. Did they _all_ go insane after their—the other's death?" Saying the word 'mate' felt like committing to an oath he wasn't quite sure he was going to make.

"Well, I don't know. They could just be made up for some good gossip." Cobra paused, and then he pointed out the one thing Midnight didn't want to acknowledge. "But if they're not, do you really want to take the risk? You're too damn powerful to throw it all away just 'cause of some chick."

"And what's the other option?" Midnight hissed menacingly. If Cobra had been there, he would have been backing away right about then.

When he spoke again, Cobra was hesitant. He knew he was entering a danger zone. "Keep her. Turn her. Make her strong; she'll be the best ally you could ever ask for. And a mate's blood is supposedly the best fare you can get as a vampire—extra appetizing and over time it'll make you stronger. Damn shame it doesn't seem to happen all that much anymore. I wouldn't mind one of my own."

"You realize that she's not a willing participant?" His voice was deadly; he was furious.

"If you turn her, she's already going to become attached. Sire-childe thing and all that. And besides, you got her for all eternity, right? You'll grow on her." He hesitated for a moment, obviously remembering who he was talking to. "…Maybe."

Midnight let out a hiss of anger and frustration. He felt a headache coming on and vampires didn't _get_ headaches.

"Hey…" Cobra said when the silence went on dangerously long. It was true the younger vampire was rarely _truly_ furious—but this was one of those times. Hesitantly, he asked, "Are you going to-"

Midnight cut him off viciously. "I will _not_ lose control."

Cobra let out a huff, something between exasperation and grudging concern. "Yeah, well make sure it doesn't happen. If you do and Brain finds out I could have stopped you, I don't even want to think of what'll happen to me."

"I _won't,_" Midnight snapped, ending the call by brutally crushing the phone in his hand. Letting the mangled mixture of plastic, metal, and circuits drop to the floor, he made his way towards the stairs.

Lucy wouldn't be needing a phone anytime soon anyways.

There was a lot to think about, but it was clear that he couldn't let her out of his sight until he decided what he was going to do about this horrendous situation—because he wasn't willing to risk losing everything over this _stupid, hateful girl._

He'd never felt anything particularly malicious towards her before this, but now that she had been practically forced upon him he felt a good deal of resentment. He had _not_ asked for this when he'd come to Magnolia. If he was forced to settle down and abandon his work because of this 'mate' business, his sire was going to regret ever sending him on this vacation.

That was if Midnight let him live. He wasn't truly angered often due to his relaxed, unflappable nature—but when the line was crossed, he left a river of blood in his wake.

This time, there would be an _ocean_.

Maybe Cobra's concern had some validity…

No. He pushed it aside.

Ascending the stairs quickly, he stalked over to the young woman who slept peacefully, totally unaware of how drastically her life had just changed. He scooped her up, opened her window, and then after dropping from the ledge, took to the rooftops and headed back to his hotel room.

He had a lot to think about.

* * *

It took Lucy a long time after she regained consciousness to actually open her eyes.

She was hurting _so badly_. Her body in its entirety ached—Midnight had really done a number on her this time. She hadn't thought he'd fed as much as the first time because she'd maintained consciousness even after he was done, but she felt veritably worse right now than she had the first morning-after.

When she finally opened her eyes, she was surprised to find herself entirely in the dark. There were silhouettes here and there due to a muffled light coming from her right, but nothing entirely discernable.

As her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out more of her surroundings. It quickly became clear that she was not in her room. The light, which she recognized as sunlight peeking from between tightly closed curtains, was coming from a much larger window than hers on the wrong side of the room, for starters. Now that she thought about it, the bed she was on was definitely different than her own; it was firmer and seemingly newer, and the covers were starchier than her well-worn pink comforter.

She panicked, but her body was too weak to do anything about it. She could only lay there helplessly and try to figure out what had happened after she lost consciousness.

Whatever this situation was, it obviously had to do with Midnight. Had he kidnapped her?

Instead of her heart beating faster, it seemed to stop altogether.

If he had done it as soon as he'd decided she owed him her life, it would have made more sense. Instead, he'd let her carry on a semblance of normal life for a week. Even though it had _only_ been a week, he had not shown any signs of changing his mind about her living on her own. He'd even gone to the extent of threatening her friends' lives, and even though it hadn't stopped her completely, she'd done her best to follow all of his instructions.

Well, maybe not her _best_—but to her knowledge she hadn't done anything that would warrant this sudden change in behavior.

However, as her body strained itself with her panic, she found herself growing tired. There was nothing she could do with how weak she was. She just had to close her eyes for a moment, take a deep breath and relax so she could think more clearly…

Within moments she was asleep once again.

* * *

A few hours later she woke up again. She felt terrible, but she was able maneuver herself into a sitting position. The effort exhausted her and the bed felt so _hard_…

Her eyes strayed to the window on the wrong side of the room and she remembered what she had realized upon first awakening—she was not in her own bedroom in her own home and Midnight was the cause.

If anything, the light from the window was a little brighter than before. She was able to make out even more of the room's features; there was a chest of drawers across from the bed with a TV on top, and to her left was a closet and a door presumably leading to a bathroom. There was a nightstand with a lamp on it directly beside her. From how generic, small, and utilitarian the room looked, it was clearly a hotel room.

A movement to her right had her whirling around. Her blood froze when she realized what—or _who_—it was.

She was not alone in the bed, which she knew now was a queen-size _at least_. Midnight lay there, facing her and looking rather peaceful as he slept. If he hadn't shifted and caused her to look directly in his direction, she wouldn't have noticed him for quite a while, she was sure. It was uncanny how he didn't breathe at all in his sleep—it seemed to be something he subconsciously did only when he was awake. He looked more like a corpse than anything as he laid there, with his pale skin and darkened eyes and lips. She had noticed that he never went anywhere without the makeup on and that it never smeared—was it a vampire thing? Maybe it wasn't makeup?

She shook her head, knowing that she couldn't focus on that at the moment. Looking past him, she saw that he also had a nightstand with a lamp—and a _phone_.

But the phone was useless to her because she'd obviously wake him up if she so much as pressed a button. Unfortunately it was an older, corded phone that undoubtedly made beeping noises whenever one dialed a number. No, she needed to get away from him while he was still asleep. Then her eyes strayed to the window where sunlight was just _begging_ to be let in.

Wasn't the sun a vampire's greatest weakness?

It wasn't lost on her that whatever the season in Magnolia, by nine o'clock at night it was always dark. Yes, she'd felt him watching her earlier in the day, but it was always nearing evening and the sun was already setting. From a shaded position he could have probably stayed out of the light.

The question was whether she was willing to risk his fury if she yanked open the curtains and he wasn't immediately incinerated. There was the very likely possibility that he would kill her if she failed.

Was it worth it?

After a long moment of contemplation, she decided that it was. If he'd kidnapped her as he seemingly had, then he was getting serious about…something. Whatever that something was, she doubted it resulted in her living much longer anyways. Better to take the chance of freeing herself of him than giving him more time to end her life and lose the chance to make things _right_.

Painstakingly, she tried to get out of bed as quietly as possible. She had no doubt that the slightest noise would wake him; she had to put a church mouse's silence to shame until she opened the curtains in one fell swoop.

Every other step, she peeked at him from the corner of her eye. He was completely unmoving and obviously still asleep.

She hoped he didn't wake up at all before he died. Even though he was a terrible, evil person, she didn't think she could look him in the eyes as he burned to a crisp and not be scarred by the experience.

If she could help it, he'd be the only person she'd ever kill.

But it was _his fault_, she told herself. If he hadn't forced her into this position, she would never have contemplated such a horrifying decision.

At long last she reached the window. It had taken much, much longer than it normally would have, but along with any noises she was certain that moving too quickly could wake him, too. In all honesty she didn't know much about real-life vampires other than what Levy had told her.

If this worked, she wouldn't have to learn anything else, either.

Her fingers touched the curtains and-

"I can kill you before you take another breath. Make your decision wisely."

She shrieked in surprise, jerking away from the curtains and whirling around to face him.

He wasn't even looking at her; in fact, he hadn't moved from the position he'd been sleeping in this entire time.

"Maybe if your fear didn't smell so delightful you would have gotten away with it," he continued in a sleepy but startlingly cold murmur. "Go back to bed. I have no patience to deal with you right now."

Despite that his tone of voice wasn't too much different what it usually was with the exception of a touch of drowsiness, Lucy could detect a difference in his attitude towards her. It was subtle but still noticeable—he definitely colder, more hardened. If she was lucky, she _didn't_ get the feeling that he was angry at her. It was probably because she had been going to attempt to kill him the only way she could. There wasn't too much solid evidence even then; it was just something that she intuitively felt. Her instincts were screaming that she was in danger.

She shouldn't have underestimated him.

Lucy stood there for a long time, trying to gauge whether it was even safe to return to bed. Her legs ached from the strain of holding her tired body up for so long despite that she was resting heavily against the window, but fear kept her rooted to the spot.

By the time he growled out her name irritably to let her know that she was trying what he'd told her was nonexistent patience, her knees were too weak for her to obey him anyways. She tried to make her way back to the bed, but the moment she pushed off the window pane and took a step forward, she couldn't hold herself up anymore and she crumpled to the ground with a loud _thud_.

She landed on her hands and knees, barely holding herself up even then. She'd completely exhausted herself in her endeavor and sweat beaded on her forehead, her breaths coming out in harsh pants. It hadn't occurred to her just how weak she actually was. Her stomach was twisting with nausea from her overexertion.

_He must have nearly killed her last night._

There was a long silence—the only sound in the room was her labored breathing.

Just when her elbows were about to give out and she was going to end up collapsing on the floor, the bed audibly shifted. Glancing up fearfully as Midnight got off the bed slowly and walked over to her, running a hand exasperatedly through his hair, she fought to stay up, to maintain whatever dignity she had left. Her heart couldn't beat any faster.

"_You,_" he hissed, "_are pissing me off._"

She nearly lost all her strength and buckled from the adrenaline rush at the fury in his voice. He was clearly _very_ angry at her due to her attempt to kill him and she was immensely regretting it because from the look in his eyes, he wasn't planning on killing her—at least not then. Not at all.

He was going to _punish_ her.

As he approached her predatorily, Lucy realized that even though she'd always known he was dangerous, had always been afraid of him and feared for her life when he was present, she'd only been exposed to an apparently _relaxed_ Midnight. Because of how much he already terrified her, she hadn't been able to comprehend that it could be _worse_.

Well, her stupidity had led her to find out that _worse_ was always possible. When she made the mistake of looking him in the eye, she saw a madness in his red orbs that told her he could commit atrocities she couldn't begin to imagine—if she was even foolish enough to try.

The vampire who had claimed her life was good at hiding it beneath a calm, composed façade, but he was completely, utterly insane.

Then the eye contact was broken as he loomed above her and she made no effort to look up at him, too afraid of what she would find in his expression. She panted, waiting for him to act.

Even though she'd expected some kind of pain, she wasn't prepared for him to yank her up by her hair and start dragging her flailing body towards the bed. Shrieking, she found a strength she didn't know she had in her and grabbed at his hand, trying to dislodge it from her hair.

He only pulled her up higher, leveling her at exactly the height where walking was impossible because of the angle but she also wasn't elevated enough to regain her footing.

"Please!" she begged, tears of pain flooding her eyes as he dragged her carelessly. "I'll do it on my own! Please stop!"

In what was an act of either mercy or maliciousness, he tossed her to the ground. Her head collided painfully with the floor, but at least it was carpeted and it was much better than being held up by her hair. He proceeded to the bed easily and laid back down.

"You have thirty seconds. Don't make me get back up." The threat made her tremble more violently than she already was.

Trying to utilize the strength her adrenaline and pain had given her, she forced herself to her feet and staggered back to the bed. It was_ just_ her luck that her spot was the farthest away from the window.

She wasn't sure if it was less than thirty seconds, but Midnight didn't say anything, seemingly asleep again. She had no inclination to do anything other than lay helplessly above the covers and try to cry as quietly as possible.

It hadn't occurred to her that things could get worse than they were. She had naively thought that she could live the relatively normal life he'd allowed her until he got bored and killed her or _she_ found a way to kill _him_. Because he'd given her the freedom in the first place, she hadn't given it thought that he might take it away.

Eventually, her thoughts became jumbled somewhere in the middle of despair and exhaustion. Though tears still trickled down her cheeks, her sobs dissipated into hiccups and then into soft sighs. Her heart was aching fiercely under the weight of everything that had happened and she considered it a blessing when her eyes finally shut and she only knew black.

* * *

_Okay, so, warning. **MIDNIGHT IS GOING TO BE VERY MEAN IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS.** It will be explained next chapter, but he's going to be more of an asshole than usual and there IS a good reason for it. But I'm just warning you all._

_Special thanks to **AM, LChan3706, Hana-Taisho, Betsy, AmeRaSora, 2kade, SalamandaLove, **and** ErzaDreyar **for reviewing! You people are so awesome! Much love!_

**_Paige -_**_ I'm so glad you decided to finally review! I'm glad you enjoy my works and I hope you'll continue to review! :) As far as your old story, I think it's always a good idea to rework things - even if you can't use the original content, ideas never die! If you were to write it I'd love to check it out. Good luck with it if you decide to!_

_And just thank you to everyone who reads. You all are awesome. ;)_

_~You know you want to review! You know you want to!~_


	8. Hachi

_Hey everyone!_

_So this chapter deserves some warnings._

_1. Character death (nobody major, in fact, nobody who's shown up in the story so far)_

_2. Violence and kind of explicit gore (I don't write or read gore often, so I don't really know if I'm judging it correctly. However, I know it would warrant an M rating.)_

_3. Midnight just being a teensy-tiny bit insane. (Sarcasm. He's super insane in this chapter, but it's explained so no worries.)_

_4. This isn't a warning, but there's definitely an author's note you should read at the bottom of this chapter._

_Other than that, enjoy! _

* * *

He had hoped that after a good night's rest he would have calmed down enough that he would be able to at least tolerate the presence of the young woman who was threatening to ruin his livelihood. Before falling asleep a little after the sun rose, he had come to the realization that he couldn't kill her and risk losing not only his lifestyle but possibly his _life_. However, he'd maintained a good deal of untamable rage that needed to be allowed to simmer if he was going to deal with her at all—and almost spitefully, he wanted to prove Cobra's worry to be unnecessary.

Then, not even three hours later, she woke him up and went on to _attempt to kill him_. That would not have bothered him so much if he could truly threaten to return the favor, but he could not. In the game of life and death, Lucy had somehow gained the upper hand; he couldn't just eliminate her if she became too much a problem. Of course, she immediately became that 'too much of a problem' when he found he was unable to kill her himself. And then, only to add insult to injury, he couldn't even have _someone else_ kill her without the possibility of going insane and meeting the same fate, whether by his own hand or another's opportune moment.

Somewhere deep within him, he knew he could be thinking much more clearly about this situation, but he couldn't seem to reign in his anger.

The raging fires of fury within him, begging him to slaughter hundreds, had barely begun to cool when he was reminded that she'd somehow bested him when she went and tried to exploit his only true weakness—the sun. Although he couldn't go through with it, it wouldn't stop him from threatening her life and as long as he kept the truth about the new dynamic a dark secret in the back of his mind, she would obey him accordingly—she wouldn't know any better. If she were to find out, though…There were always her friends, but if he had to take her away from Magnolia the threat of their deaths would become not-so-threatening anymore.

He just hoped his inability to kill her didn't extend to being unable to _hurt_ her. When Lucy Heartfilia was in a position to call the shots, he'd gladly accept insanity and suicide as the alternative. For now, though, he didn't have to think about it getting that far.

After falling into a restless slumber for the rest of the day, he found upon wakening he was in, if possible, a worse mood than before. He was thankful that Lucy was still deeply asleep—it would make restraining her so much easier.

His fangs were already lengthened, ready for a long, fruitful night of slaughter and his claws throbbed with the need to rend flesh. Midnight hadn't felt this bloodthirsty in a long while—the closest he'd come to it was eleven or so years ago, when his sire had chastised him unjustly and threatened to disown him. Even though they were empty words and just meant to intimidate him into good behavior, on some deep level Midnight still held attachment to the older vampire and after reigning in his wish to attack his sire for having the audacity to disapprove of his strongest childe, he'd left for the wilderness to cool down. When he'd stumbled upon a small town that was more or less isolated from the outside world…

In the end, not even burning all traces of evidence and thereby the entire village could fully provide cover for the carnage—after he'd cooled down enough, he'd gone back and there had definitely been a large-scale hunter inspection. It hadn't bothered him; he'd gone up against entire vampire hunter guilds before and come out victorious, but it had been amusing that they would attempt to go after him if they had discovered the perpetrator.

He couldn't vent the way he needed to in Magnolia; the necessary damage control would be impossible to attain. As he bound Lucy's limp arms behind her back, he wondered, consequences aside, if he could take on a city of Magnolia's population and still manage to give every single person a unique cause of death. He had his doubts, but it was an entertaining thought that sparked creativity he'd be able to exploit later that night. Having already secured her legs together, he wrapped several lengths of fabric—the product of ripping apart a shirt he cared little for—around her mouth in layers to ensure she stayed sufficiently quiet, tying each one separately at the nape of her neck. By the time he was done, her legs were completely immobile except for her knees, she would be incapable of opening her jaws wide enough to gnaw through her gag, and her shoulders would probably wake her up soon because of undoubtable soreness from their awkward positioning. She had been flipped over onto her stomach—she could make no ruckus with her feet that way, the mattress would muffle any noise that her gag couldn't absorb, and with her arms bound loosely but securely at the elbows instead of the wrists, she was completely useless.

Before he was ready to leave, he took a good look at a map he'd taken from the hotel's information desk. The last time he'd been angered enough to go on a 'killing spree,' as Cobra called them, he'd been able to take on a small town—and the anger he'd felt then was _nothing_ compared to what he was feeling now. It might take some travel and in Lucy's condition, he probably couldn't leave her the way she was for more than eighteen consecutive hours without badly damaging her shoulders or seriously risking her health—he had, after all, drained too much blood and would not be aiding in her recovery via food and water for possibly the next day or so. It looked like he would have to make this quick and although he didn't like it, it just meant more blood and less fun. In his state, he decided that anything he could get would serve his purposes. He just needed to _vent_, to bring himself back from the brink of losing control entirely.

And hopefully not make a grand pronouncement to the world that vampires existed in the process.

It irritated him that Cobra had been right to express concern. The factors of being a vampire in the first place, his profession, and his own personality combined put under too much pressure could easily turn him into a mindless killing machine—something that even his own kind agreed needed to be put down although surprisingly, it was not so much out of concern for the human population as it was mercy. He toed the line more often than most of his kind because of his extremely slow fuse but consequently even more extremely violent explosions. However, every vampire dealt with the issue of losing control at times in their own way. For relatively more peaceful vampires, it could be a meditative retreat or long, arduous journey to ease their minds; others would soothe themselves by reclaiming their humanity and indulging in mortal pleasures such as sex, gambling, drinking or doing drugs excessively, and so on. Then there were those like him, who paradoxically regained sanity by embracing the inherent madness that lay within every vampire who'd ever existed_. _The madness was always there; some were just better at or more inclined to hiding it than others.

He had never been one to conceal his true nature.

Fortunately for the sake of maintaining the truth about their existence, those who used violence to maintain control like he did were few and far between. Furthermore, he'd only heard of a handful of vampires who surpassed his penchant for violence when their control was threatened. Two were especially legendary for their bloodlust, as well: Vlad the Impaler and Elizabeth Bathory.

He wondered if his name would ever become as eternal as theirs should he have the misfortune to meet an untimely death.

After searching the nearby areas on the map for a decent place to vent, he finally found a town called MacPherson. The fact that it was a mere fifteen miles outside Magnolia's far-east outskirts had him licking his lips in anticipation. The only thing that made it show up on the map was the little red triangle that indicated it was a dangerous area because it was the host for a large penitentiary; the people who lived there were either staff and their families who worked there or the prisoners themselves. With some glamours and a well-timed evacuation alarm, he could wreak all the havoc he wanted—and because there were so many convicts, anything he did could be construed to the public as the criminals turning on each other and the guards alike. He wasn't going to discriminate and he didn't mind if they followed suit.

No one would know the difference either way. Only an experienced vampire hunter would be able to see through the carnage and find the true origin of his killing spree. Given the nature of his expedition, it was unlikely even an official who knew vampires existed would be concerned enough about the 'bad guys' being killed to have it investigated. The guards who were killed could still easily be attributed to the riot, anyways.

Putting down the map, he licked his lips hungrily. It was perfect—he could be there and back with plenty of time in between without endangering the young woman lying on his bed.

Speaking of Lucy…

She was struggling weakly against her bonds subconsciously and from the way her eyelashes were fluttering against her cheekbones it was clear she was about to wake up. If she was to start crying and screaming, he wasn't sure if even the threat of insanity and death would be able to hold him back from mangling her irrevocably and just letting her bleed out from the wounds. He was coming dangerously close to losing control now, his rage at the situation he had been forced into growing as his grip on sanity waned and adding to that the fact that practically feeling flesh rip under his claws, things were starting to become worrisome. The most critical time for any vampire's control was the period between teetering on the brink and doing whatever they needed to do to center themselves and come back safely to the other side. He'd spent more than too much time in that gray area.

Midnight had misjudged his ability to regain control on something of this magnitude; Lucy be damned, he should have been heading out to MacPherson hours ago. Cobra had truly been right to say something about it—at this point, he had been playing with fire and was now very close to burning himself.

Lucy had awakened and was crying out in protest just as he slammed the hotel room's door behind him.

* * *

_This_ was bliss.

_This_ was love, joy, laughter.

_This_ was breathing…

This_ was living_.

Bellows of unbridled fury, desperate pleas for mercy, cries of abject terror, and screams of helpless agony played in the background as he plunged his arm through the guard's soft, pliant abdomen; it was a beautiful symphony performed by a masterful orchestra.

He was the maestro.

The dying man hadn't even let out so much as a choked gurgle before Midnight turned around and swiped at a prisoner who was coming at him with a crowbar—the burly man had probably come to the very correct assumption that he had orchestrated this chaos for his own purposes.

"Beast!" the large, dark-skinned man roared as he brought the thick metal weapon down with all his strength.

This was the first person to willingly confront him. He relished the thought that his prey had finally started coming to him and Midnight grinned wickedly. "Something like that."

He caught the crowbar as it swung downwards and bent it sideways so that it was shaped like a hook, then flicking his wrist to disarm his burly assailant. His attacker was nearly tossed off his feet when he refused to release the weapon and at his zeal, the vampire decided to let him keep it. The man's eyes never left his, skillfully dodging Midnight's simultaneous attempt to shred the side of his abdomen.

"I _know_ what you are, filth," the white-haired man hissed venomously, lashing out with both the metal hook and his sturdy leg as Midnight was pulling back from his unsuccessful attack.

Midnight contorted his body fluidly, inhumanly. He grinned, running his tongue over his lips and baring his fangs. Even though this was child's play, it was at least more challenging than the others he'd killed so far. "Ah, an unjust conviction? Such a shame your skills went to waste, _hunter_." He caught the man's leg as it was retreating and snapped his tibia in half with an abrupt twist of his wrist.

The man roared in pain, falling to his knees. Midnight's beloved claws, already soaked in blood, slashed through the hunter's face diagonally, destroying one eye completely and disfiguring him irreparably in one swift movement.

It might have mattered if he was going to live.

Gripping the defeated man by the collar of his orange jumpsuit, he leaned down to inspect his handiwork for a moment before asking, "Tell me, are there any others with your skills here?"

A bloody glob of spit on his cheek was the only answer.

"How impolite," Midnight chided playfully, not bothering to wipe the insult from his face. "I find decent manners invaluable, myself."

Lifting his free hand, he slowly inserted his clawed index finger into the hunter's remaining good eye, despite his futile attempts to avoid it, until he could go no further without killing the man. He thoroughly enjoyed the agonized cries it elicited.

For all his bravado, the broken, blinded man was now crying bloody tears. "Poor thing!" Midnight exclaimed in a mockery of sympathy, letting the hunter crumple to the ground. However, even when he was defeated the man did not give up; he lashed out at his adversary with his unbroken leg. Midnight easily stepped over the pitiful attack, but decided he liked the man's gumption.

Crouching down, he offered a deal. "Your name in exchange for your life and a chance to get revenge."

When the man stayed silent, Midnight internally shrugged and was mere seconds away from ripping the man's throat out when he grunted, "Elfman Strauss. I _will_ kill you, beast."

"How delightful," the vampire replied, giggling insanely. "You may call me Midnight, but just in case you forget…"

Ripping through the front of his jumpsuit, he cut a jagged vertical line with his claw through Elfman's pectoral muscle. At this point the man could only let out a weak groan. He followed up with two smaller indented diagonal cuts, and then another vertical line in equal length to the first to create an M that could have spanned a dinner plate.

"Now then, I've left you a wonderful little reminder and it's deep enough that even if you can't see it, you'll be able to _feel_ it. All you have to do is not die at this point—I think I've done my good deed for the day."

Cackling maniacally, the blood-crazed vampire stood from his prey and stepped into the cafeteria, where the havoc soon intensified.

* * *

The defeated vampire hunter named Elfman laid on the ground, his pain starting to numb as he went into shock. He couldn't see anything—and would never be able to again.

He could hear the vampire—no,_ demon_—named Midnight, who had done this atrocity to him and was off doing the same to countless others, laughing gleefully close by. His shrill giggles were punctuated by his current victim's screams and Elfman felt fury roil through his broken body.

"Elfman!" called a concerned, _familiar_ voice. Footsteps were nearing him rapidly and then he felt hands cradling his head. There was a sharp gasp at the sight of what had been done to him. "Who did this to you?"

"Warren?" Elfman forced out when he realized who the man was. It was strange, having to identify someone solely by their voice. "Go! The vampire…he's too strong…" His voice was weak and guttural but no less desperate.

"I'm not leaving without you. You'll die if you don't get help," Warren insisted. "We got in this mess together, now we're going to get out of it the same way—together." And then arms were hooked under his shoulders and straining to pull up his large body.

"My leg…Warren, he-he's looking for…more…more of us. He's…lost control," he panted, trying to warn his friend away.

Warren was silent but wasn't giving up his efforts to lift Elfman to his feet.

"He's _lost_…_control_…" Elfman grunted in a final effort to convince his friend to get out. "Mid…night. Name…Midnight." He was started to lose consciousness, his ability to speak deteriorating as he fought valiantly to stay alert.

The other hunter did not respond as he finally got his friend to his feet—or rather onto his good foot. The sounds of violence nearby were fading as Midnight's crazed laughter became more distant. Elfman knew instinctively that the quiet wasn't because of anything other than the fact that everyone Midnight had come across so far was dead—with the exception of himself, but he had a feeling it would not stay that way for long.

"_Warren,_" Elfman whispered harshly, "Fair…Tail…go…"

"Elfman, I'm not leaving you behind!" the older man insisted. In a broken tenor, he reminded him, "Real men don't leave their friends to die!"

If he'd had any energy to, Elfman would have smiled. He hoped that Warren would carry on his ideals after he was gone. Instead, it was all he could do to groan out, "_Go_…!"

They had been moving at a near-stagnant pace as Warren attempted to drag him away, but Elfman knew his time was over. He had passed on the little information he had painstakingly obtained and he knew that Warren would know to go to their guild with it.

He consciously let go of any control he had over his body and Warren was forced to his knees at the suddenly completely dead weight. The thinner man could not hold up his friend without at least a little aid and at the gesture, Elfman made it clear that he was_ choosing_ not to go on.

"I promise, he will pay for this," Warren told him in a cracked voice. "I _promise_, my friend. If anyone can avenge you, it'll be the people of Fairy Tail."

Elfman agreed wholeheartedly, but couldn't say anything. Even though he no longer had eyes, he knew that his vision would be fading quickly if he could see.

In the end, Elfman Strauss wasn't sure if his friend actually escaped. All he knew was that as a white light appeared before him and he was enveloped in a soft, comforting embrace, he felt several drops of water splash onto his face and then there was a seemingly…_pained_ roar of thunder that sounded strangely like the voice of someone he knew.

Funny…

He hadn't known it could rain inside.

* * *

_Okay everyone! First, we're going to handle reviews and then there will be the note that you should probably read if you like this story. _

_A very big thank you to **Anon, AM, Jessica Phantomhive, EmotionlessGirl291, AztecBrat, SaffireRebel, Bookworm1898, AmeRaSora, **and** Blue Eyed Passion** for your reviews. They mean so much to me. **Hana-Taisho, ErzaDreyar,** **Betsy,** and **SalamandaLove** - you all just ROCK. From what I can tell you all have been following the story since the first chapter or very nearly that. Of course, if I missed anyone I truly apologize because I want to make sure I give credit where credit is due._

_Now for the author's note which I'm hoping won't take too long._

_Sweet Cinnamon and Honey is actually being turned into an original novel. Exciting, right? Well, maybe not so much for you guys because you obviously like it as a fanfiction, but I think it's about time I try to make a bit of money off my writing. Of course, everything's going to be changed to avoid copyright infringement, so no worries there. Because of this, however, updates may be a little slower but I WILL continue the fanfiction. Chapters will continue to come out as often as I am able until the book is actually published. I hope you'll all consider reading the story as a novel as well as enjoy it as a fanfiction, but that's up to you. :) All I know is that I hope you continue to enjoy this fanfiction and review!_

_Note: If anyone of you have questions about the future of this story, feel free to PM me. I"ll be happy to answer any and all questions. :) Thanks!_

_Chapters and reviews. They're like milk and Oreos._

_Give me my Oreos!_


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